WITH 
 FROM FA 
 
Class 
 
 Book 
 
 GopyilghtN^, 
 
 '^ a 5 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
THE DEFENSE OF CIIAMPIGNY 
 
It 
 
 THE BOYS' 
 BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 FROM FAMOUS PAINTINGS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 <^l)t Bitjetijitie ptt0 «JEambritioe 
 
 1914 
 
S^'^ 
 
 ,v^ 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published October iqi4 
 
 NOV -2 1914 
 
 ^GI,A38S19i 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The contents of "The Boys' Book of Battles" have been 
 chosen with two requirements in mind: first, that each 
 selection should be of real interest in itself ; second, that 
 the selections, taken together, should give a graphic 
 picture of the development of warfare from the earliest 
 times to the present day. In view of these requirements 
 many battles have been included that have but little 
 historical importance, but that are described in an 
 intensely thrilling way or that are illustrative of inter- 
 esting phases of warfare. 
 
 The selections have been taken, not only from books 
 of history, but from fiction, poetry, and biography as 
 well. This broad treatment is more than justified by 
 the increased interest and value of the selections avail- 
 able. It would be difficult, for example, to find a more 
 vivid or illuminating picture of all phases of a modern 
 battle than in "The Fight before Sedan" which is taken 
 from a novel, while the lilt of the verses in "The Battle 
 of Naseby" drives home the fighting spirit of the 
 Puritans as no prose description could. 
 
 Thanks are due to the following pubHshers for gener- 
 ously permitting the use of the copyrighted material 
 specified below : — 
 
 G. P. Putnam's Sons: 
 The Victory of the Khita. From "Notes from the 
 Nile," by H. D. Rawnsley. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 A. C. McClurg & Company. 
 
 The Storming of the Sky-City. From "The Spanish 
 Pioneers," by Charles F. Lummis. 
 Harper & Brothers. 
 
 The Battle of the Pyramids, and The Crossing of the 
 Beresina River. From "The History of Napoleon 
 Bonaparte," by John S. C. Abbott. 
 The Macmillan Company : 
 
 The Fight before Sedan. From "The Downfall," by 
 Emile Zola. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 The Victory over the Khita Pen-ta-ur 3 
 
 The Battle of Marathon E. S. Creasy 12 
 
 The Lemnian: A Story of Thermopyl^ . . John Buchan 23 
 
 The Siege of Plat^a Thucydides 45 
 
 How Hannibal made his Way to Italy Livy 57 
 
 Julius C^sar in Gaul T. Rice Holmes 73 
 
 A Viking Sea- Fight From the Ueimskringla 84 
 
 The Last Danish Invasion .... Edward Bulwer-Lylton 100 
 
 The Battle of Hastings Robert. Wace 114 
 
 The Battle of Cr£cy Sir John Froissart 128 
 
 The Death of Winkelried Walter Thornbury 134 
 
 The Ballad of Agincouht ...... Michael Drayton 139 
 
 The Battle of Bos worth Field .... Owen Rhoscomyl 144 
 
 On the Field of Flodden Sir Walter Scott 152 
 
 The Siege of Leyden John Loihrop Motley 157 
 
 The Battle of Ivry .... Thomas Bahington Macaulay 169 
 The Revenge: A Ballad of the Fleet 
 
 Alfred, Lord Tennyson 173 
 
 The Storming of the Sky-City . . . Charles F. Lummis 180 
 GusTAVUS Adolphus at Lutzen 
 
 Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller 196 
 
 The Battle of Naseby . . . Thomas Babington Macaulay 206 
 Grandmother's Story of Bunker Hill Battle 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes 211 
 The Fight between the Serapis and the Bon Homme 
 
 Richard Joel Tyler Headley 221 
 
 In the Revolt of the Vendee Victor Hugo 230 
 
 The Battle of the Pyramids .... John S. C. Abbott 240 
 
 Hohenlinden Thomas Campbell 254 
 
 Trafalgar William C. Bennett 256 
 
 The Crossing of the Beresina River . John S. C. Abbott 261 
 
 vii 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Waterloo Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen 267 
 
 Waterloo Victor Hugo 271 
 
 The Charge of the Light Brigade . Alfred, Lord Tennyson 291 
 
 Taken Prisoner at Shiloh Henry M. Stanley 294 
 
 A Drummer Boy at Gettysburg . . . Harry M. KieJJer 309 
 
 Farragut W. T. Meredith 326 
 
 The Fight before Sedan Emile Zola 329 
 
 The Indian Story OF Custer's Last Yicut . James McLaughlin 353 
 
 A Modern Battlefield Julian Ralph 370 
 
 Fighting in Darkest Africa Giistav Frensscn 377 
 
 The Attack upon Port Arthur Lieutenant Tadayoshl Sakurai 38 7 
 
 The Siege of Adrianople Philip Gihbs 393 
 
 A Memorable Retreat Sir John French 398 
 
 Fighting in Mid-Air Lieutenant Werner 407 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The Defense of Champigny . Jean Baptiste ^ouard Detaille 
 
 Frontispiece v^ 
 
 Conquests of Rameses II . . . Egyptian W all-Painting lo 
 
 Hannibal crossing the Rhone .... Henry Paul Motte 60 y 
 
 Morning of the Battle of Agincourt . . Sir John Gilbert 140 ,, 
 
 Bonaparte before the Sphinx .... Jean Lion Gerdme 242 
 
 Trafalgar W.C. Stanfield 258 
 
 Passage of the Beresina . . . . J. H. Van Papendrecht 264 
 
 "Scotlantj Forever!" . . Elizabeth Thompson {Lady Butler) 270 
 
 Evening of the Battle of Waterloo . . . Ernest Crofts 288 
 The Return of the Light Brigade 
 
 Elizabeth Thompson {Lady Butler) 292 
 
 Gettysburg Fifty Years After . . . From a Photograph 324 
 
 An August Morning with Fareagut . . .W. H. Overend 328 
 Geriian Wounded in the Gallery of Mirrors, Versailles 
 
 Victor Bachereau Rcverchon 352 
 
 The Soldier's Dream . . . Jean Baptiste &douard Detaille 406 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 
 
 BY PEN-TA-UR, 1326 B.C. PUT INTO METER BY 
 HARDWICKE D. RAWNSLEY 
 
 [By order of Rameses, this poem was inscribed upon the 
 walls of five temples, one of which was at Karnak. On these 
 walls were also engraved enormous illustrations of the scenes 
 of the poem, commemorating especially the exploits of the 
 king. (See illustration at page 10.) 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 Then the king of Elhita-land, 
 
 With his warriors made a stand, 
 
 But he durst not risk his hand 
 
 In battle with our Pharaoh; 
 
 So his chariots drew away, 
 
 Unnumbered as the sand, 
 
 And they stood, three men of war 
 
 On each car; 
 
 And gathered all in force 
 
 Was the flower of his army, for the fight in full array, 
 
 But advance, he did not dare, 
 
 Foot or horse. 
 
 So in ambush there they lay. 
 
 Northwest of Kadesh town; 
 
 And while these were in their lair. 
 
 Others went forth south of Kadesh, on our midst, their 
 
 charge was thrown 
 With such weight, our men went down. 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 For they took us unaware, 
 
 And the legion of Pra-Hormakhu gave way. 
 
 But at the western side 
 
 Of Arunatha's tide, 
 
 Near the city's northern wall, our Pharaoh had his 
 
 place. 
 And they came unto the king. 
 And they told him our disgrace; 
 
 Then Rameses uprose, like his father,^ Month, in might, 
 All his weapons took in hand, 
 And his armor did he don. 
 Just Uke Baal, fit for fight; 
 
 And the noble pair of horses that carried Pharaoh on, 
 Lo! "Victory of Thebes" was their name. 
 And from out the royal stables of great Miamun they 
 
 came. 
 
 Then the king he lashed each horse, 
 And they quickened up their course. 
 And he dashed into the middle of the hostile, Hittite 
 
 host. 
 All alone, none other with him, for he counted not the 
 
 cost. 
 Then he looked behind, and found 
 That the foe were all around. 
 
 Two thousand and five hundred of their chariots of war; 
 And the flower of the Hittites, and their helpers, in a 
 
 ring — 
 Men of Masu, Keshkesh, Pidasa, Malunna, Arathu, 
 
 1 Month, or Mentu, as one of the aspects of the sun-god Ra, was 
 worshiped at Thebes. 
 
THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 
 
 Qazauadana, Kadesh, Akerith, Leka and Khilibu — 
 
 Cut off the way behind, 
 
 Retreat he could not find; 
 
 There were three men on each car, 
 
 And they gathered all together, and closed upon the 
 
 king. 
 "Yea, and not one of my princes, of my chief men and 
 
 my great. 
 Was with me, not a captain, not a knight; 
 For my warriors and chariots had left me to my fate, 
 Not one was there to take his part in fight." 
 
 Then spake Pharaoh, and he cried: "Father Ammon, 
 where art thou? 
 
 Shall a sire forget his son? 
 
 Is there aught without thy knowledge I have done? 
 
 From the judgments of thy mouth when have I gone? 
 
 Have I e'er transgressed thy word? 
 
 Disobeyed, or broke a vow? 
 
 Is it right, who rules in Egypt, Egypt's lord. 
 
 Should e'er before the foreign peoples bow. 
 
 Or own their rod? 
 
 Whate'er may be the mind of this Hittite herdsman- 
 horde, 
 
 Sure Ammon ^ should stand higher than the wretch who 
 knows no God? 
 
 Father Ammon, is it nought 
 
 That to thee I dedicated noble monuments, and filled 
 
 Thy temples with the prisoners of war? 
 
 That for thee a thousand years shall stand the shrines 
 I dared to build? 
 1 The king, probably, is here identifying himself with Ammon. 
 
 5 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 That to thee my palace-substance I have brought, 
 
 That tribute unto thee from afar 
 
 A whole land comes to pay, 
 
 That to thee ten thousand oxen for sacrifice I fell. 
 
 And burn upon thine altars the sweetest woods that 
 
 smell; 
 That all thy heart required, my hand did ne'er gainsay? 
 I have built for thee tall gates and wondrous works, 
 
 beside the Nile, 
 I have raised thee mast on mast, 
 For eternity to last, 
 From Elephantin's isle 
 The obelisks for thee I have conveyed. 
 It is I who brought alone 
 The everlasting stone. 
 It is I who sent for thee, 
 The ships upon the sea. 
 
 To pour into thy coffers the wealth of foreign trade; 
 Is it told that such a thing 
 By any other king. 
 At any other time, was done at all? 
 Let the wretch be put to shame 
 Who refuses thy commands, 
 But honor to his name 
 Who to Ammon lifts his hands. 
 To the full of my endeavor. 
 With a willing heart forever, 
 I have acted unto thee, 
 And to thee, great God, I call; 
 For behold ! now, Ammon, I, 
 In the midst of many peoples, all unknown, 
 Unnumbered as the sand, 
 
 6 
 
THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 
 
 Here I stand, 
 
 All alone; 
 
 There is no one at my side, 
 
 My warriors and chariots afeared, 
 
 Have deserted me, none heard 
 
 My voice, when to the cravens I, their king, for succor, 
 
 cried. 
 But I find that Ammon's grace 
 Is better far to me 
 Than a million fighting men and ten thousand chariots 
 
 be. 
 Yea, better than ten thousand, be they brother, be they 
 
 son. 
 When with hearts that beat like one. 
 Together for to help me they are gathered in one place. 
 The might of men is nothing, it is Ammon who is lord, 
 What has happened here to me is according to thy 
 
 word. 
 And I will not now trangress thy command; 
 But alone, as here I stand. 
 To thee my cry I send, 
 Unto earth's extremest end. 
 Saying, 'Help me, father Ammon, against the Hittite 
 
 horde.' " 
 
 Then my voice it found an echo in Hermonthis' temple- 
 hall, 
 Ammon heard it, and he came unto my call; 
 And for joy I gave a shout, 
 From behind, his voice cried out, 
 "I have hastened to thee, Ramses Miamun, 
 Behold 1 1 stand with thee, 
 
 7 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Behold ! 't is I am he, 
 
 Own father thine, the great god Ra, the sun. 
 
 Lo ! mine hand with thine shall fight, 
 
 And mine arm is strong above 
 
 The hundreds of ten thousands, who against thee do 
 
 unite. 
 Of victory am I lord, and the brave heart do I love, 
 I have found in thee a spirit that is right, 
 And my soul it doth rejoice in thy valor and thy might." 
 
 Then all this came to pass, I was changed in my heart 
 
 Like Monthu, god of war, was I made, 
 
 With my left hand hurled the dart, 
 
 With my right I swung the blade. 
 
 Fierce as Baal in his time, before their sight. 
 
 Two thousand and five hundred pairs of horses were 
 
 around. 
 And I flew into the middle of their ring. 
 By my horse-hoofs they were dashed all in pieces to the 
 
 ground. 
 None raised his hand in fight. 
 For the courage in their breasts had sunken quite; 
 And their limbs were loosed for fear, 
 And they could not hurl the dart, 
 And they had not any heart 
 To use the spear; 
 And I cast them to the water, 
 Just as crocodiles fall in from the bank, 
 So they sank. 
 
 And they tumbled on their faces, one by one. 
 At my pleasure I made slaughter, 
 So that none 
 
 8 
 
THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 
 
 E'er had time to look behind, or backward fled; 
 
 Where he fell, did each one lay 
 
 On that day. 
 
 From the dust none ever lifted up his head. 
 
 Then the wretched king of Khita, he stood still, 
 
 With his warriors and his chariots all about him in a ring, 
 
 Just to gaze upon the valor of our king 
 
 In the fray. 
 
 And the king was all alone, 
 
 Of his men and chariots none 
 
 To help him; but the Hittite of his gazing soon had fill, 
 
 For he turned his face in flight, and sped away. 
 
 Then his princes forth he sent, 
 
 To battle with our lord. 
 
 Well equipped with bow and sword 
 
 And all goodly armament. 
 
 Chiefs of Leka, Masa, Kings of Malunna, Arathu, 
 
 Qar-qa-mash, of the Dardani, of Keshkesh, Khilibu. 
 
 And the brothers of the king were all gathered in one 
 
 place, 
 Two thousand and five hundred pairs of horse — 
 And they came right on in force, 
 The fury of their faces to the flaming of my face. 
 
 Then, like Monthu in his might, 
 I rushed on them apace. 
 And I let them taste my hand '■■ 
 In a twinkling moment's space. 
 Then cried one unto his mate, 
 "This is no man, this is he, 
 This is Suteck, god of hate, 
 
 9 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 With Baal in his blood; 
 
 Let us hasten, let us flee, 
 
 Let us save our souls from death. 
 
 Let us take to heel and try our lungs and breath." 
 
 And before the king's attack, 
 
 Hands fell, and Umbs were slack, 
 
 They could neither aim the bow, nor thrust the spear, 
 
 But just looked at him who came 
 
 Charging on them, hke a flame. 
 
 And the King was as a griffin in the rear. 
 
 (Behold thus speaks the Pharaoh, let all know), 
 
 "I struck them down, and there escaped me none. 
 
 Then I lifted up my voice, and I spake. 
 
 Ho ! my warriors, charioteers, 
 
 Away with craven fears, 
 
 Halt, stand, and courage take. 
 
 Behold I am alone, 
 
 Yet Ammon is my helper, and his hand is with me now." 
 
 When my Menna, charioteer, beheld in his dismay, 
 How the horses swarmed aroimd us, lo ! his courage fled 
 
 away. 
 And terror and affright 
 Took possession of him quite; 
 And straightway he cried out to me, and said, 
 ''Gracious lord and bravest king, savior-guard 
 Of Egypt in the battle, be our ward ; 
 Behold we stand alone, in the hostile Hittite ring, 
 Save for us the breath of life, 
 Give deliverance from the strife, 
 Oh ! protect us, Ramses Miamun ! Oh ! save us, mighty 
 
 King!" 
 
 10 
 
CONQUESTS OF RAMESES II 
 

THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 
 
 Then the King spake to his squire, "Halt! take courage, 
 
 charioteer, 
 As a sparrow-hawk swoops down upon his prey, 
 So I swoop upon the foe, and I will slay, 
 I will hew them into pieces, I will dash them into dust; 
 Have no fear, 
 
 Cast such evil thought away, 
 These godless men are wretches that in Ammon put no 
 
 trust." 
 Then the king, he hurried forward, on the Hittite host he 
 
 flew, 
 "For the sixth time that I charged them," says the king 
 
 — and listen well, 
 "Like Baal in his strength, on their rearward, lo! I fell, 
 And I killed them, none escaped me, and I slew, and 
 
 slew, and slew." 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 
 
 1490 B.C.] 
 BY E. S. CREASY 
 
 [In 490 B.C., the Persians set out to conquer Greece. They 
 landed at Marathon, and here was fought the battle which 
 prevented the forces of Asia from sweeping over all Europe. 
 
 The Editor] 
 
 MiLTiADES felt no hesitation as to the course which the 
 Athenian army ought to pursue ; and earnestly did he 
 press his opinion on his brother-generals. Practically ac- 
 quainted with the organization of the Persian armies, 
 Miltiades felt convinced of the superiority of the Greek 
 troops, if properly handled ; he saw with the military eye 
 of a great general the advantage which the position of 
 the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a pro- 
 found politician he felt the perils of remaining inactive, 
 and of giving treachery time to ruin the Athenian cause. 
 
 One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. 
 This was Callimachus the war-ruler. The votes of the 
 generals were five and five, so that the voice of Callim- 
 achus, would be decisive. 
 
 On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of 
 all the nations of the world depended. Miltiades turned 
 to him, and in simple soldierly eloquence, the substance 
 of which we may read faithfully reported in Herodotus, 
 who had conversed with the veterans of Marathon, the 
 great Athenian thus adjured his countryman to vote 
 for giving battle. 
 
 12 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 
 
 "It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave 
 Athens, or, by assuring her freedom, to win yourself 
 an immortality of fame, such as not even Harmodius 
 and Aristogiton have acquired; for never, since the 
 Athenians were a people, were they in such danger as 
 they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to 
 these Medes, they are to be given up to Hippias, and you 
 know what they then will have to suffer. But if Athens 
 comes victorious out of this contest, she has it in her 
 to become the first city of Greece, Your vote is to decide 
 whether we are to join battle or not. If we do not bring 
 on a battle presently, some factious intrigue will disunite 
 the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed to the 
 Medes. But if we fight, before there is anything rotten 
 in the state of Athens, I believe that, provided the gods 
 will give fair play and no favor, we are able to get the 
 best of it in an engagement." 
 
 The vote of the brave war-ruler was gained, the coun- 
 cil determined to give battle; and such was the ascend- 
 ancy and acknowledged military eminence of Miltiades, 
 that his brother-generals one and all gave up their days 
 of command to him, and cheerfully acted under his or- 
 ders. Fearful, however, of creating any jealousy, and 
 of so failing to obtain the vigorous cooperation of all 
 parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the day 
 when the chief command would have come round to him 
 in regular rotation before he led the troops against the 
 enemy. 
 
 The inaction of the Asiatic commanders during this 
 interval appears strange at first sight; but Hippias was 
 with them, and they and he were aware of their chance 
 of a bloodless conquest through the machinations of his 
 
 13 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 partisans among the Athenians. The nature of the 
 ground also explains in many points the tactics of the 
 opposite generals before the battle, as well as the opera- 
 tions of the troops during the engagement. 
 
 The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty- two 
 miles distant from Athens, lies along the bay of the same 
 name on the northeastern coast of Attica. The plain is 
 nearly in the form of a crescent, and about six miles 
 in length. It is about two miles broad in the center, 
 where the space between the mountains and the sea is 
 greatest, but it narrows toward either extremity, the 
 mountains coming close down to the water at the horns 
 of the bay. There is a valley trending inward from the 
 middle of the plain, and a ravine comes down to it to 
 the' southward. Elsewhere it is closely girt round on 
 the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are 
 thickly studded with pines, olive trees, and cedars, and 
 overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low 
 odoriferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic 
 air. The level of the ground is now varied by the mound 
 raised over those who fell in the battle, but it was an 
 unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. 
 There are marshes at each end, which are dry in spring 
 and summer and then offer no obstruction to the horse- 
 man, but are commonly flooded with rain and so ren- 
 dered impracticable for cavalry in the autumn, the time 
 of year at which the action took place. 
 
 The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could 
 watch every movement of the Persians on the plain 
 below, while they were enabled completely to mask 
 their own. Miltiades also had, from his position, the 
 power of giving battle whenever he pleased, or of de- 
 
 14 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 
 
 laying it at his discretion, unless Datis were to attempt 
 the perilous operation of storming the heights. 
 
 Miltiades, on the afternoon of a September day, 
 490 B.C., gave the word for the Athenian army to pre- 
 pare for battle. There were many local associations con- 
 nected with those mountain heights which were calcu- 
 lated powerfully to excite the spirits of the men, and of 
 which the commanders well knew how to avail them- 
 selves in their exhortations to their troops before the 
 encounter. Marathon itself was a region sacred to Her- 
 cules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who 
 had in days of yore devoted herself to death for the lib- 
 erty of her people. The very plain on which they were 
 to fight was the scene of the exploits of their national 
 hero, Theseus; and there, too, as old legends told, the 
 Athenians and the HeracHdse had routed the invader, 
 Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy 
 myths or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest 
 faith to the men of that day, and many a fervent prayer 
 arose from the Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who, 
 while on earth, had striven and suffered on that very 
 spot, and who were beheved to be now heavenly powers, 
 looking down with interest on their still beloved country, 
 and capable of interposing with superhuman aid in its 
 behalf. 
 
 According to old national custom, the warriors of each 
 tribe were arrayed together; neighbor thus fighting by 
 the side of neighbor, friend by friend, and the spirit of 
 emulation and the consciousness of responsibility excited 
 to the very utmost. The war-ruler, Callimachus, had 
 the leading of the right wing; the Plateaus formed the 
 extreme left; andThemistocles and Aristides commanded 
 
 IS 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the center. The line consisted of the heavy armed spear- 
 men only; for the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates) 
 took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a 
 pitched battle, using them only in skirmishes, or for the 
 pursuit of a defeated enemy. The panoply of the regu- 
 lar infantry consisted of a long spear, of a shield, helmet, 
 breast-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus equipped, 
 they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action 
 in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But 
 the military genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on 
 this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his 
 countrymen. It was essential for him to extend his line 
 so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to secure 
 himself from being outflanked and charged in the rear 
 by the Persian horse. This extension involved the weak- 
 ening of his line. Instead of a uniform reduction of its 
 strength, he determined on detaching principally from 
 his center, which, from the nature of the ground, would 
 have the best opportunities for rallying, if broken; and 
 on strengthening his wings so as to insure advantage 
 at those points; and he trusted to his own skill and to 
 his soldiers' discipline for the improvement of that ad- 
 vantage into decisive victory. 
 
 In this order, and availing himself probably of the 
 inequalities of the ground, so as to conceal his prepara- 
 tions from the enemy till the last possible moment, 
 Miltiades drew up the eleven thousand infantry whose 
 spears were to decide this crisis in the struggles between 
 the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices by 
 which the favor of heaven was sought, and its will con- 
 sulted, were announced to show propitious omens. The 
 trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hymn of 
 
 i6 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 
 
 battle, the little army bore down upon the host of the 
 foe. Then, too, along the mountain slopes of Marathon 
 must have resounded the mutual exhortation; which 
 ^schylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was after- 
 ward heard over the waves of Salamis: "On, sons of the 
 Greeks! Strike for the freedom of your country! Strike 
 for the freedom of your children and of your wives — for 
 the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for the sepul- 
 chers of your sires. All — all are now staked upon the 
 strife." 
 
 Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the 
 phalanx, Miltiades brought his men on at a run. They 
 were all trained in the exercise of the patestra, so that 
 there was no fear of their ending the charge in breathless 
 exhaustion; and it was of the deepest importance for 
 him to traverse as rapidly as possible the mile or so of 
 level ground that lay between the mountain foot and 
 the Persian outposts, and so to get his troops into close 
 action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form, and 
 maneuver against him, or their archers keep him long 
 under fire, and before the enemy's generals could fairly 
 deploy their masses. 
 
 "When the Persians," said Herodotus, "saw the 
 Athenians running down on them, without horse or 
 bowmen, and scanty in numbers, they thought them a 
 set of madmen rushing upon certain destruction." They 
 began, however, to prepare to receive them, and the 
 Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place 
 allowed, the varied races who served in their motley 
 ranks. Mountaineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, 
 wild horsemen from the steppes of Khorassan, the black 
 archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the banks of 
 
 17 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the Indus, the Oxus, the Euphrates, and the Nile, made 
 ready against the enemies of the Great King. But no 
 national cause inspired them except the division of na- 
 tive Persians; and in the large host there was no uni- 
 formity of language, creed, race, or military system. 
 Still, among them there were many gallant men, under 
 a veteran general ; they were familiarized with victory, 
 and in contemptuous confidence, their infantry, which 
 alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. 
 On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of leveled 
 spears, against which the light targets, the short lances 
 and scimitars of the Orientals, offered weak defense. 
 The front rank of the Asiatics must have gone down to a 
 man at the first shock. Still they recoiled not, but strove 
 by individual gallantry and by the weight of numbers 
 to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tac- 
 tics, and to bear back the shallow line of the Europeans. 
 In the center, where the native Persians and the Sacae 
 fought, they succeeded in breaking through the weak- 
 ened part of the Athenian phalanx; and the tribes led by 
 Aristides and Themistocles were, after a brave resistance, 
 driven back over the plain, and chased by the Persians 
 up the valley toward the inner country. There the nature 
 of the ground gave the opportunity of rallying and re- 
 newing the struggle. Meanwhile, the Greek wings, 
 where Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, 
 had routed the Asiatics opposed to them; and the 
 Athenian and Plataean officers, instead of pursuing the 
 fugitives, kept their troops well in hand, and, wheeling 
 round, they formed the two wings together. Miltiades 
 instantly led them against the Persian center, which had 
 hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, and 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 
 
 prepared to encounter these new and unexpected as- 
 sailants. Aristides and Themistocles renewed the fight 
 with their reorganized troops, and the full force of the 
 Greeks was brought into close action with the Persian 
 and Sacian divisions of the enemy. Datis's veterans 
 strove hard to keep their ground, and evening was ap- 
 proaching before the stem encounter was decided. 
 
 But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, 
 destitute of body-armor, and never taught by training 
 to keep the even front and act with the regular move- 
 ment of the Greek infantry, fought at heavy disadvan- 
 tage with their shorter and feebler weapons against the 
 compact array of well-armed Athenian and Plataean 
 spearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary 
 evolution in concert, and to preserve a uniform and un- 
 wavering Une in battle. In personal courage and in 
 bodily activity the Persians were not inferior to their 
 adversaries. Their spirits were not yet cowed by the 
 recollection of former defeats; and they lavished their 
 lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame which they had 
 won by so many victories. While their rear ranks poured 
 an incessant shower of arrows over the heads of their 
 comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, 
 sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate groups of 
 twelve or ten, upon the projecting spears of the Greeks, 
 striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring 
 their scimitars and daggers into play. But the Greeks 
 felt their superiority, and though the fatigue of the long- 
 continued action told heavily on their inferior numbers, 
 the sight of the carnage that they dealt upon their as- 
 sailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on. 
 At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia 
 
 19 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 turned their backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, 
 striking them down, to the water's edge, where the in- 
 vaders were now hastily launching their galleys, and 
 seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with success, the 
 Athenians attacked and strove to fire the fleet. But here 
 the Asiatics resisted desperately, and the principal loss 
 sustained by the Greeks was in the assault on the ships. 
 Here fell the brave war-ruler Callimachus, the general 
 Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Seven galleys 
 were fired; but the Persians succeeded in saving the rest. 
 They pushed off from the fatal shore; but even here 
 the skill of Datis did not desert him, and he sailed round 
 to the western coast of Attica, in hopes to find the city 
 unprotected, and to gain possession of it from some of 
 the partisans of Hippias. Miltiades, however, saw and 
 counteracted his maneuver. Leaving Aristides and the 
 troops of his tribe to guard the spoil and the slain, the 
 Athenian commander led his conquering army by a rapid 
 night march back across the country to Athens. And 
 when the Persian fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium 
 and sailed up to the Athenian harbor in the morning, 
 Datis saw arrayed on the heights above the city the 
 troops before whom his men had fled on the preceding 
 evening. All hope of further conquest in Europe for the 
 time was abandoned, and the baffled armada returned 
 to the Asiatic coasts. 
 
 After the battle had been fought, but while the dead 
 bodies were yet on the ground, the promised reinforce- 
 ment from Sparta arrived. Two thousand Lacedaemo- 
 nian spearmen, starting immediately after the full moon, 
 had marched the hundred and fifty miles between Athens 
 and Sparta in the wonderfully short time of three days. 
 
 20 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 
 
 Though too late to share in the glory of the action, 
 they requested to be allowed to march to the battle-field 
 to behold the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on 
 the dead bodies of the invaders, and then praising the 
 Athenians and what they had done, they returned to 
 Lacedaemon. 
 
 The number of the Persian dead was 6400; of the 
 Athenians, 192. The number of the Plataeans who fell 
 is not mentioned; but as they fought in the part of the 
 army which was not broken, it cannot have been large. 
 
 The apparent disproportion between the losses of the 
 two armies is not surprising when we remember the 
 armor of the Greek spearmen, and the impossibility of 
 heavy slaughter being inflicted by sword or lance on 
 troops so armed, as long as they kept firm in their 
 ranks. 
 
 The Athenian slain were buried on the field of 
 battle. This was contrary to the usual custom, accord- 
 ing to which the bones of all who fell fighting for their 
 country in each year were deposited in a public sepul- 
 cher in the suburb of Athens called the Cerameicus. But 
 it was felt that a distinction ought to be made in the 
 funeral honors paid to the men of Marathon, even as 
 their merit had been distinguished over that of all other 
 Athenians. A lofty mound was raised on the plain of 
 Marathon, beneath which the remains of the men of 
 Athens who fell in the battle were deposited. Ten col- 
 umns were erected on the spot, one for each of the 
 Athenian tribes; and on the monumental column of each 
 tribe were graven the names of those of its members 
 whose glory it was to have fallen in the great battle 
 of liberation. The antiquarian Pausanias read those 
 
 21 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 names there six hundred years after the time when they 
 were first graven. The columns have long since perished, 
 but the mound still marks the spot where the noblest 
 heroes of antiquity repose. 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 [4S0 B.C.] 
 BY JOHN BUCHAN 
 
 [In the fifth century B.C., Persia was the most powerful 
 empire in the world. Its ruler, Darius, became enraged at 
 the Greeks because of the assistance which they gave to the 
 Asiatic Greeks in their attempt to win freedom from his con- 
 trol. He was completely routed at Marathon ; but ten years 
 later his son and successor Xerxes, after vast preparations, 
 set out to conquer and punish the little country which had 
 dared to oppose a Persian command. His forces were met at 
 the narrow pass of Thermopylae by Leonidas with a handful 
 of Spartans and their allies. After two days of fruitless at- 
 tack on the part of the invaders, a treacherous Greek pointed 
 out to them a path over the mountains by which they could 
 get to the rear of the Greeks. The Spartan soldiers knew that 
 nothing but death lay before them, but the laws of their 
 country forbade flight from an enemy. They fought like 
 demons, but every man was slain. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 He pushed the matted locks from his brow, as he 
 peered into the mist. His hair was thick with salt, and 
 his eyes smarted from the green- wood fire on the poop. 
 The four slaves who crouched beside the thwarts — 
 Carians, with thin, birdlike faces — were in a pitiable 
 case, their hands blue with oar-weals and the lash-marks 
 on their shoulders beginning to gape from sun and sea. 
 The Lemnian himself bore marks of ill-usage. His cloak 
 was still sopping, his eyes heavy with watching, and his 
 lips black and cracked with thirst. Two days before, the 
 
 23 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 storm had caught him and swept his little craft into mid- 
 JEgean. He was a sailor, come of sailor stock, and he 
 had fought the gale manfully and well. But the sea had 
 burst his water-jars, and the torments of drought had 
 been added to his toil. He had been driven south almost 
 to Scyros, but had found no harbor. Then a weary day 
 with the oars had brought him close to the Euboean 
 shore, when a freshet of storm drove him seaward again. 
 Now at last, in this northerly creek of Sciathos, he had 
 found shelter and a spring. But it was a perilous place, 
 for there were robbers in the bushy hills — mainland 
 men who loved above all things to rob an islander; and 
 out at sea, as he looked toward Pelion, there seemed 
 something ado which boded little good. There was deep 
 water beneath a ledge of cliflf, half covered by a tangle 
 of wildwood. So Atta lay in the bows, looking through 
 the trails of vine at the racing tides now reddening in the 
 dawn. 
 
 The storm had hit others besides him, it seemed. The 
 channel was full of ships, aimless ships that tossed be- 
 tween tide and wind. Looking closer, he saw that they 
 were all wreckage. There had been tremendous doings 
 in the north, and a navy of some sort had come to 
 grief. Atta was a prudent man and knew that a broken 
 fleet might be dangerous. There might be men lurking 
 in the maimed galleys who would make short work of 
 the owner of a battered but navigable craft. At first he 
 thought that the ships were those of the Hellenes. The 
 troublesome fellows were everywhere in the islands, 
 stirring up strife, and robbing the old lords. But the 
 tides running strongly from the east were bringing some 
 of the wreckage in an eddy into the bay. He lay closer 
 
 24 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 and watched the spars and splintered poops as they 
 neared him. These were no galleys of the Hellenes. 
 Then came a drowned man, swollen and horrible; then 
 another — swarthy, hook-nosed fellows, all yellow with 
 the sea. Atta was puzzled. They must be the men from 
 the east about whom he had been hearing. 
 
 Long ere he left Lemnos there had been news about 
 the Persians. They were coming like locusts out of the 
 dawn, swarming over Ionia and Thrace, men and ships 
 numerous beyond telling. They meant no ill to honest 
 islanders; a little earth and water were enough to win 
 their friendship. But they meant death to the v/3/>r? i of 
 the Hellenes. Atta was on the side of the invaders; he 
 wished them well in their war with his ancient foes. 
 They would eat them up, Athenians, Lacedsemonians, 
 Corinthians, ^ginetans, men of Argos and Elis, and 
 none would be left to trouble him. But in the mean time 
 something had gone wrong. Clearly there had been no 
 battle. As the bodies butted against the side of the 
 galley, he hooked up one or two and found no trace of 
 a wound. Poseidon had grown cranky, and had claimed 
 victims. The god would be appeased by this time, and 
 all would go well. Danger being past, he bade the men 
 get ashore and fill the water-skins. "God's curse on all 
 Hellenes!" he said, as he soaked up the cold water from 
 the spring in the thicket. 
 
 About noon he set sail again. The wind sat in the 
 northeast, but the wall of Pelion turned it into a light 
 stern breeze which carried him swiftly westward. The 
 four slaves, still leg-weary and arm-weary, lay like logs 
 beside the thwarts. Two slept; one munched some salty 
 
 * Riotousness. 
 25 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 figs; the fourth, the headman, stared wearily forward 
 with ever and again a glance back at his master. But 
 the Lemnian never looked his way. His head was on his 
 breast as he steered, and he brooded on the sins of the 
 Hellenes. 
 
 He was of the old Pelasgian stock, — the first lords of 
 the land, who had come out of the soil at the call of God. 
 The pillaging northmen had crushed his folk out of the 
 mainlands and most of the islands, but in Lemnos they 
 had met their match. It was a family story how every 
 grown male had been slain, and how the women long 
 after had slaughtered their conquerors in the night. 
 ''Lemnian deeds," said the Hellenes, when they wished 
 to speak of some shameful thing; but to Atta the shame 
 was a glory to be cherished forever. He and his kind 
 were the ancient people, and the gods loved old things, 
 as these new folk would find. Very especially he hated 
 the men of Athens. Had not one of their captains, Milti- 
 ades, beaten the Lemnians and brought the island under 
 Athenian sway? True, it was a rule only in name, for 
 any Athenian who came alone to Lemnos would soon 
 be cleaving the air from the highest cliff- top. But the 
 thought irked his pride, and he gloated over the Per- 
 sians' coming. The Great King from beyond the deserts 
 would smite these outrageous upstarts. Atta would will- 
 ingly give earth and water. It was the whim of a fan- 
 tastic barbarian, and would be well repaid if the bastard 
 Hellenes were destroyed. They spoke his own tongue, 
 and worshiped his own gods, and yet did evil. Let the 
 nemesis of Zeus devour them ! 
 
 The wreckage pursued him everywhere. Dead men 
 shouldered the side of the galley, and the straits were 
 
 26 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 stuck full of things like monstrous buoys, where tall 
 ships had foundered. At Artemisium he thought he saw 
 signs of an anchored fleet with the low poops of the Hel- 
 lenes, and steered off to the northern shores. There, 
 looking towards CEta and the Malian Gulf, he found an 
 anchorage at sunset. The waters were ugly and the 
 times ill, and he had come on an enterprise bigger than 
 he had dreamed. The Lemnian was a stout fellow, but 
 he had no love for needless danger. He laughed mirth- 
 lessly as he thought of his errand, for he was going to 
 Hellas, to the shrine of the Hellenes. 
 
 It was a woman's doing, like most crazy enterprises. 
 Three years ago his wife had labored hard in childbirth, 
 and had had the whims of laboring women. Up in the 
 keep of Larissa, on the windy hillside, there had been 
 heart-searching and talk about the gods. The little olive- 
 wood Hermes, the very private and particular god of 
 Atta's folk, was good enough in simple things like a 
 lambing or a harvest, but he was scarcely fit for heavy 
 tasks. Atta's wife declared that her lord lacked piety. 
 There were mainland gods who repaid worship, but his 
 scorn of all Hellenes made him blind to the merits of 
 these potent divinities. At first Atta resisted. There was 
 Attic blood in his wife, and he strove to argue with her 
 unorthodox craving. But the woman persisted, and a 
 Lemnian wife, as she is beyond other wives in virtue and 
 comeliness, is beyond them in stubbornness of temper. 
 A second time she was with child, and nothing would 
 content her but that Atta should make his prayers 
 to the stronger gods. Dodona was far away, and long 
 ere he reached it his throat would be cut in the hills. 
 But Delphi was but two days' journey from the Malian 
 
 27 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 coast, and the gods of Delphi, the Far-Darter, had sur- 
 prising gifts, if one were to credit travelers' tales. 
 
 Atta yielded with an ill grace, and out of his wealth 
 devised an offering to Apollo. So on this July day he 
 found himself looking across the gulf to Kallidromos 
 bound for a Hellenic shrine, but hating all Hellenes in 
 his soul. A verse of Homer consoled him, — the words 
 which Phocion spoke to Achilles. " Verily even the gods 
 may be turned, they whose excellence and honor and 
 strength are greater than thine ; yet even these do men, 
 when they pray, turn from their purpose with offerings 
 of incense and pleasant vows." The Far-Darter must 
 hate the ^/3/?i9 of these Hellenes, and be the more ready 
 to avenge it since they dared to claim his countenance. 
 "No race has ownership in the gods," a Lemnian song- 
 maker had said, when Atta had been questioning the 
 ways of Poseidon. 
 
 The following dawn found him coasting past the 
 north end of Euboea, in the thin fog of a windless sum- 
 mer morn. He steered by the peak of Othrys and a spur 
 of CEta, as he had learned from a slave who had traveled 
 the road. Presently he was in the muddy Malian waters 
 and the sun was scattering the mist on the landward 
 side. And then he became aware of a greater commo- 
 tion than Poseidon's play with the ships off Pelion. A 
 murmur like a winter's storm came seaward. He low- 
 ered the sail which he had set to catch a chance breeze, 
 and bade the men rest on their oars. An earthquake 
 seemed to be tearing at the roots of the hills. 
 
 The mist rolled up and his hawk eyes saw a strange 
 sight. The water was green and still around him, but 
 shoreward it changed its color. It was a dirty red, and 
 
 28 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 
 
 things bobbed about in it like the Persians in the creek 
 of Sciathos. On the strip of shore, below the sheer wall 
 of Kallidromos, men were fighting — myriads of men, 
 far away toward Locris they stretched in ranks and ban- 
 ners and tents till the eye lost them in the haze. There 
 was no sail on the queer, muddy, red-edged sea; there 
 was no man in the hills; but on that one flat ribbon of 
 sand all the nations of the earth were warring. He re- 
 membered about the place: Thermopylae, they called it, 
 the Hot Gates. The Hellenes were fighting the Persians 
 in the pass for their fatherland. 
 
 Atta was prudent, and loved not other men's quarrels. 
 He gave the word to the rowers to row seaward. In 
 twenty strokes they were in the mist again. 
 
 Atta was prudent, but he was also stubborn. He 
 spent the day in a creek on the northern shore of the 
 gulf, Hstening to the weird hum which came over the 
 waters out of the haze. He cursed the delay. Up on 
 Kallidromos would be clear, dry air and the path to 
 Delphi among the oak woods. The Hellenes could not 
 be fighting everjrwhere at once. He might find some 
 spot on the shore far in their rear, where he could land 
 and gain the hills. There was danger indeed, but once 
 on the ridge he would be safe; and by the time he came 
 back the Great King would have swept the defenders 
 into the sea and be well on the road for Athens. He 
 asked himself if it were fitting that a Lemnian should be 
 stayed in his holy task by the struggles of Hellene and 
 barbarian. His thoughts flew to his homestead at La- 
 rissa, and the dark-eyed wife who was awaiting his home- 
 coming. He could not return without Apollo's favor; 
 his manhood and the memory of his lady's eyes forbade 
 
 29 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 it. So, late in the afternoon he pushed off again and 
 steered his galley for the south. 
 
 About sunset the mist cleared from the sea; but the 
 dark falls swiftly in the shadow of the high hills, and Atta 
 had no fear. With the night the hum sank to a whisper; 
 it seemed that the invaders were drawing off to camp, 
 for the sound receded to the west. At the last light the 
 Lemnian touched a rock-point well in the rear of the 
 defense. He noticed that the spume at the tide's edge 
 was reddish and stuck to his hands like gum. Of a 
 surety, much blood was flowing on that coast. 
 
 He bade his slaves return to the north shore and lie 
 hidden there to await him. When he came back he 
 would light a signal fire on the topmost bluff of Kalli- 
 dromos. Let them watch for it and come to take him 
 off. Then he seized his bow and quiver, and his short 
 hunting spear, buckled his cloak about him, saw that 
 the gift to Apollo was safe in the folds of it, and marched 
 sturdily up the hillside. 
 
 The moon was in her first quarter, a slim horn which 
 at her rise showed only the faint outline of the hill. Atta 
 plodded steadfastly on, but he found the way hard. 
 This was not like the crisp sea-turf of Lemnos, where 
 among the barrow^s of the ancient dead, sheep and kine 
 could find sweet fodder. Kallidromos ran up as steep as 
 the roof of a barn. Cytisus and thyme and juniper grew 
 rank, but, above all, the place was strewn with rocks, 
 leg-twisting boulders, and great cliffs where eagles dwelt. 
 Being a seaman, Atta had his bearings. The path to 
 Delphi left the shore road near the Hot Gates, and went 
 south by a rift of the mountain. If he went up the slope 
 in a bee-line he must strike it in time and find better 
 
 30 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 
 
 going. Still it was an eerie place to be tramping after 
 dark. The Hellenes had strange gods of the thicket and 
 hillside, and he had no wish to intrude upon their sanc- 
 tuaries. He told himself that next to the Hellenes he 
 hated this country of theirs, where a man sweltered in 
 hot jungles or tripped among hidden crags. He sighed 
 for the cool beaches below Larissa, where the surf was 
 white as the snows of Samothrace, and the fisher-boys 
 sang round their smoking broth-pots. 
 
 Presently he found a path. It was not the mule road, 
 worn by many feet, that he had looked for, but a little 
 track which twined among the boulders. Still it eased 
 his feet, so he cleared the thorns from his sandals, 
 strapped his belt tighter, and stepped out more con- 
 fidently. Up and up he went, making odd detours among 
 the crags. Once he came to a promontory, and, looking 
 down, saw lights twinkling from the Hot Gates. He had 
 thought the course lay more southeriy, but consoled 
 himself by remembering that a mountain path must 
 have many windings. The great matter was that he was 
 ascending, for he knew that he must cross the ridge of 
 CEta before he struck the Locrian glens that led to the 
 Far-Darter's shrine. 
 
 At what seemed the summit of the first ridge he halted 
 for breath, and, prone on the thyme, looked back to sea. 
 The Hot Gates were hidden, but across the gulf a single 
 light shone from the far shore. He guessed that by this 
 time his galley had been beached and his slaves were 
 cooking supper. The thought made him homesick. He 
 had beaten and cursed these slaves of his, times without 
 number, but now in this strange land he felt them kins- 
 folk, men of his own household. Then he told himself 
 
 31 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 he was no better than a woman. Had he not gone sail- 
 ing to Chalcedon and distant Pontus, many months* 
 journey from home, while this was but a trip of days. 
 In a week he would be welcomed home by a smiling wife, 
 with a friendly god behind him. 
 
 The track still bore west, though Delphi lay in the 
 south. Moreover, he had come to a broader road run- 
 ning through a little tableland. The highest peaks of 
 (Eta were dark against the sky, and around him was a 
 flat glade where oaks whispered in the night breezes. By 
 this time he judged from the stars that midnight had 
 passed, and he began to consider whether, now that he 
 was beyond the fighting, he should not sleep and wait for 
 dawn. He made up his mind to find a shelter, and in 
 the aimless way of the night traveler, pushed on and on 
 in the quest of it. The truth is, his mind was on Lemnos 
 and a dark-eyed, white-armed dame spinning in the 
 evening by the threshold. His eyes roamed among the 
 oak trees, but vacantly and idly, and many a mossy 
 corner was passed unheeded. He forgot his ill-temper, 
 and hummed cheerfully the song his reapers sang in 
 the barley-fields below his orchard. It was a song of 
 sea-men turned husbandmen, for the gods it called on 
 were the gods of the sea. 
 
 Suddenly he found himself crouching among the young 
 oaks, peering and listening. There was something com- 
 ing from the west. It was like the first mutterings of a 
 storm in a narrow harbor, a steady rustling and whisper- 
 ing. It was not wind ; he knew winds too well to be de- 
 ceived. It was the tramp of light-shod feet among the 
 twigs — many feet, for the sound remained steady, 
 
 32 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 while the noise of a few men will rise and fall. They were 
 coming fast and coming silently. The war had reached 
 far up Kallidromos. 
 
 Atta had played this game often in the Httle island 
 wars. Very swiftly he ran back and away from the path, 
 up the slope which he knew to be the first ridge of Kal- 
 lidromos. The army, whatever it might be, was on the 
 Delphian road. Were the Hellenes about to turn the 
 flank of the Great King? 
 
 A moment later he laughed at his folly. For the men 
 began to appear, and they were coming to meet him, 
 coming from the west. Lying close in the brush-wood, 
 he could see them clearly. It was well he had left the 
 road, for they stuck to it, following every winding, — 
 crouching, too, like hunters after deer. The first man he 
 saw was a Hellene, but the ranks behind were no Hel- 
 lenes. There was no glint of bronze or gleam of fair skin. 
 They were dark, long-haired fellows, with spears like his 
 own and round eastern caps and egg-shaped bucklers. 
 Then Atta rejoiced. It was the Great King who was 
 turning the flank of the Hellenes. They guarded the 
 gate, the fools, while the enemy slipped through the 
 roof. 
 
 He did not rejoice long. The van of the army was 
 narrow and kept to the path, but the men behind were 
 straggling all over the hillside. Another minute and he 
 would be discovered. The thought was cheerless. It 
 was true that he was an islander and friendly to the Per- 
 sian, but up on the heights who would listen to his tale? 
 He would be taken for a spy, and one of those thirsty 
 spears would drink his blood. It must be farewell to Del- 
 phi for the moment, he thought, or farewell to Lemnos 
 
 S3 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 forever. Crouching low, he ran back and away from 
 the path to the crest of the sea-ridge of Kallidromos. 
 
 The men came nearer to him. They were keeping 
 roughly to the line of the path, and drifted through the 
 oak wood before him, an army without end. He had 
 scarcely thought there were so many fighting men in the 
 world. He resolved to lie there on the crest, in the hope 
 that ere the first hght they would be gone. Then he 
 would push on to Delphi, leaving them to settle their 
 quarrels behind him. These were hard times for a pious 
 pilgrim. 
 
 But another noise caught his ear from the right. The 
 army had flanking squadrons, and men were coming 
 along the ridge. Very bitter anger rose in Atta's heart. 
 He had cursed the Hellenes, and now he cursed the bar- 
 barians no less. Nay, he cursed all war, that spoiled the 
 errands of peaceful folk. And then, seeking safety, he 
 dropped over the crest on to the steep shoreward face of 
 the mountain. 
 
 In an instant his breath had gone from him. He had 
 slid down a long slope of screes, and then with a gasp 
 found himself falling sheer into space. Another second, 
 and he was caught in a tangle of bush, and then dropped 
 once more upon screes, where he clutched desperately 
 for handhold. Breathless and bleeding, he came to 
 anchor on a shelf of greensward, and found himself blink- 
 ing up at the crest, which seemed to tower a thousand 
 feet above. There were men on the crest now. He 
 heard them speak, and felt that they were looking down. 
 
 The shockkept him still till the men had passed. Then 
 the terror of the place gripped him and he tried fever- 
 ishly to retrace his steps. A dweller all his days among 
 
 34 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 gentle downs, he grew dizzy with the sense of being hung 
 in space. But the only fruit of his efforts was to set him 
 slipping again. This time he pulled up at a root of 
 gnarled oak, which overhung the sheerest cliff on Kalli- 
 dromos. The danger brought his wits back. He sul- 
 lenly reviewed his case and found it desperate. 
 
 He could not go back, and, even if he did, he would 
 meet the Persians. If he went on he would break his neck, 
 or at the best fall into the Hellenes' hands. Oddly 
 enough he feared his old enemies less than his friends. 
 He did not think that the Hellenes would butcher him. 
 Again, he might sit perched in his eyrie till they settled 
 their quarrel or he fell off. He rejected this last way. 
 Fall off he should for certain, unless he kept moving. 
 Already he was giddy with the vertigo of the heights. 
 
 It was growing lighter. Suddenly he was looking not 
 into a black world but to a pearl-gray floor, far beneath 
 him. It was the sea, the thing he knew and loved. The 
 sight screwed up his courage. He remembered that he 
 was a Lemnian and a seafarer. He would be conquered 
 neither by rock nor by Hellene nor by the Great King. 
 Least of all by the last, who was a barbarian. Slowly, 
 with clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, he began to 
 clamber down a ridge which flanked the great cliff of 
 Kallidromos. His plan was to reach the shore, and 
 take the road to the east before the Persians completed 
 their circuit. Some instinct told him that a great army 
 would not take the track he had mounted by. There 
 must be some longer and easier way debouching farther 
 down the coast. He might yet have the good luck to 
 slip between them and the sea. 
 
 The two hours which followed tried his courage hard. 
 
 35 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Thrice he fell, and only a juniper root stood between him 
 and death. His hands grew ragged, and his nails were 
 worn to the quick. He had long ago lost his weapons; his 
 cloak was in shreds, all save the breast-fold which held 
 the gift to Apollo. The heavens brightened, but he dared 
 not look around. He knew that he was traversing awe- 
 some places where a goat would scarcely tread. Many 
 times he gave up hope of life. His head was swimming, 
 and he was so deadly sick that often he had to lie gasp- 
 ing on some shoulder of rock less steep than the rest. 
 But his anger kept him to his purpose. He was filled 
 with fury at the Hellenes. It was they and their folly 
 that had brought him these mischances. Some day — 
 
 He found himself sitting blinking on the shore of the 
 sea. A furlong off, the water was lapping on the reefs. 
 A man, larger than human in the morning mist, was 
 standing above him. 
 
 "Greeting, stranger," said the voice. *'By Hermes, 
 you choose the difiQcult roads to travel." 
 
 Atta felt for broken bones, and, reassured, struggled 
 to his feet. 
 
 " God's curse upon all mountains," he said. He stag- 
 gered to the edge of the tide and laved his brow. The 
 savor of salt revived him. He turned, to find the tall 
 man at his elbow, and noted how worn and ragged he 
 was, and yet how upright. 
 
 "When a pigeon is flushed from the rocks, there is a 
 hawk near," said the voice. 
 
 Atta was angry. "A hawk!" he cried. "Ay, an army 
 of eagles. There will be some rare flushing of Hellenes 
 before evening." 
 
 36 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 
 
 "What frightened you, islander? " the stranger asked. 
 "Did a wolf bark up on the hillside?" 
 
 "Ay, a wolf. The wolf from the East with a multitude 
 of wolflings. There will be fine eating soon in the pass." 
 
 The man's face grew dark. He put his hand to his 
 mouth and called. Half a dozen sentries ran to join him. 
 He spoke to them in the harsh Lacedsemonian speech 
 which made Atta sick to hear. They talked with the 
 back of the throat, and there was not an "s" in their 
 words. 
 
 "There is mischief in the hills," the first man said. 
 "This islander has been frightened down over the 
 rocks. The Persian is stealing a march on us." 
 
 The sentries laughed. One quoted a proverb about 
 island courage. Atta's wrath flared and he forgot him- 
 self. He had no wish to warn the Hellenes, but it irked 
 his pride to be thought a liar. He began to tell his story 
 hastily, angrily, confusedly; and the men still laughed. 
 
 Then he turned eastward and saw the proof before 
 him. The light had grown and the sun was coming up 
 over Pelion. The first beam fell on the eastern ridge of 
 Kallidromos, and there, clear on the sky-line, was the 
 proof. The Persian was making a wide circuit, but mov- 
 ing shoreward. In a little he would be at the coast, and 
 by noon at the Hellenes' rear. 
 
 His hearers doubted no more. Atta was hurried 
 forward through the fines of the Greeks to the narrow 
 throat of the pass, where behind a rough rampart of 
 stones lay the Lacedaemonian headquarters. He was still 
 giddy from the heights, and it was in a giddy dream that 
 he traversed the misty shingles of the beach amid ranks 
 of sleeping warriors. It was a grim place, for there were 
 
 37 . 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 dead and dying in it, and blood on every stone. But in 
 the lee of the wall little fires were burning, and slaves 
 were cooking breakfast. The smell of roasting flesh came 
 pleasantly to his nostrils, and he remembered that he 
 had had no meal since he crossed the gulf. 
 
 Then he found himself the center of a group who had 
 the air of kings. They looked as if they had been years 
 in war. Never had he seen faces so worn and so terribly 
 scarred. The hollows in their cheeks gave them the air of 
 smiling, and yet they were grave. Their scarlet vests 
 were torn and muddied, and the armor which lay near 
 was dinted like the scrap-iron before a smithy door. But 
 what caught his attention was the eyes of the men. 
 They glittered as no eyes he had ever seen before glit- 
 tered. The sight cleared his bewilderment and took the 
 pride out of his heart. He could not pretend to despise 
 a folk who looked like Ares fresh from the wars of the 
 Immortals. 
 
 They spoke among themselves in quiet voices. Scouts 
 came and went, and once or twice one of the men, taller 
 than the rest, asked Atta a question. The Lemnian sat in 
 the heart of the group, sniffing the smell of cooking, and 
 looking at the rents in his cloak and the long scratches 
 on his legs. Something was pressing on his breast, and 
 he found that it was Apollo's gift. He had forgotten all 
 about it. Delphi seemed beyond the moon, and his er- 
 rand a child's dream. 
 
 Then the king, for so he thought of the tall man, 
 spoke: — 
 
 "You have done us a service, islander. The Persian 
 is at our back and front, and there will be no escape for 
 those who stay. Our allies are going home, for they do 
 
 38 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 
 
 not share our vows. V/e of LacedEemon wait in the pass. 
 If you go with the men of Corinth you will find a place 
 of safety before noon. No doubt in the Euripus there is 
 some boat to take you to your own land." 
 
 He spoke courteously, not in the rude Athenian way; 
 and somehow the quietness of his voice and his glitter- 
 ing eyes roused wild longings in Atta's heart. His island 
 pride was face to face with a greater — greater than he 
 had ever dreamed of. 
 
 "Bid yon cooks give me some broth," he said gruffly. 
 "I am faint. After I have eaten, I will speak with you." 
 
 He was given food, and as he ate he thought. He was 
 on trial before these men of Lacedsemon. More, the old 
 faith of the Islands, the pride of the first masters, was 
 at stake in his hands. He had boasted that he and his 
 kind were the last of the men; now these Hellenes of 
 Lacedaemon were preparing a great deed, and they 
 deemed him unworthy to share in it. They ofi"ered him 
 safety. Could he brook the insult? 
 
 He had forgotten that the cause of the Persian was his; 
 that the Hellenes were the foes of his race. He saw only 
 that the last test of manhood was preparing, and the 
 manhood in him rose to greet the trial. An odd, wild 
 ecstasy surged in his veins. It was not the lust of battle, 
 for he had no love of slaying, or hate for the Persian, 
 for he was his friend. It was the sheer joy of proving 
 that the Lemnian stock had a starker pride than these 
 men of Lacedaemon. They would die for their father- 
 land and their vows, but he, for a whim, a scruple, a 
 delicacy of honor. His mind was so clear that no other 
 course occurred to him. There was only one way for a 
 man. He too would be dying for his fatherland, for 
 
 39 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 through him the island race would be ennobled in the 
 eyes of gods and men. 
 
 Troops were filing fast to the east — Thebans, Co- 
 rinthians, 
 
 "Time flies, islander," said the king's voice. "The 
 hours of safety are sHpping past." 
 
 Atta looked up carelessly. "I will stay," he said. 
 "God's curse on all Hellenes! Little care I for your 
 quarrels. It is nothing to me if your Hellas is under the 
 heel of the East. But I care much for brave men. It 
 shall never be said that a man of Lemnos, a son of the 
 old race, fell back when Death threatened. I stay with 
 you, men of Lacedaemon." 
 
 The king's eyes ghttered; they seemed to peer into 
 his heart. 
 
 "It appears they breed men in the islands," he said. 
 "But you err. Death does not threaten. Death awaits 
 us." 
 
 "It is all the same," said Atta. "But I crave a boon. 
 Let me fight my last fight by your side. I am of older 
 stock than you, and a king in my own country. I would 
 strike my last blow among kings." 
 
 There was an hour of respite before battle was joined, 
 and Atta spent it by the edge of the sea. He had been 
 given arms, and in girding himself for the fight he had 
 found Apollo's offering in his breast-fold. He was done 
 with the gods of the Hellenes. His offering should go 
 to the gods of his own people. So, calling upon Poseidon, 
 he flung the little gold cup far out to sea. It flashed 
 in the sunlight, and then sank in the soft green tides so 
 noiselessly that it seemed as if the hand of the sea-god 
 
 40 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 had been stretched to take it. "Hail, Poseidon!" the 
 Lemnian cried. "I am bound this day for the Ferry- 
 man. To you only I make prayer, and to the little 
 Hermes of Larissa. Be kind to my kin when they travel 
 the sea, and keep them islanders and seafarers forever. 
 Hail, and farewell, God of my own folk!" 
 
 Then, while the little waves lapped on the white sand, 
 Atta made a song. He was thinking of the homestead 
 far up in the green downs, looking over to the snows of 
 Samothrace. At this hour in the morning there would be 
 a tinkle of sheep-bells as the flocks went down to the low 
 pastures. Cool winds would be blowing, and the noise 
 of the surf below the cliffs would come faint to the ear. 
 In the hall the maids would be spinning, while their dark- 
 haired mistress would be casting swift glances to the 
 doorway, lest it might be filled any moment by the form 
 of her returning lord. Outside in the checkered sunhght 
 of the orchard the child would be playing with his nurse, 
 crooning in childish syllables the chanty his father had 
 taught him. And at the thought of his home a great 
 passion welled up in Atta's heart. It was not regret, but 
 joy and pride and aching love. In his antique island- 
 creed the death he was awaiting was no other than a 
 bridal. He was dying for the things he loved, and by his 
 death they would be blessed eternally. He would not 
 have long to wait before bright eyes came to greet him 
 in the House of Shadows. 
 
 So Atta made the Song of Atta, and sang it then and 
 later in the press of battle. It was a simple song, like the 
 lays of seafarers. It put into rough verse the thought 
 which cheers the heart of all adventurers, nay, which 
 makes adventure possible for those who have much to 
 
 41 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 leave. It spoke of the shining pathway of the sea which 
 is the Great Uniter. A man may lie dead in Pontus or 
 beyond the Pillars of Hercules, but if he dies on the 
 shore there is nothing between him and his fatherland. 
 It spoke of a battle all the long dark night in a strange 
 place — a place of marshes and black cliffs and shadowy 
 terrors. 
 
 ''/w the dawn the sweet light comes, ''^ said the song, 
 *' and the salt winds and the tides will hear me home.'' . . . 
 
 When in the evening the Persians took toll of the dead, 
 they found one man who puzzled them. He lay among 
 the tall Lacedaemonians, on the very lip of the sea, 
 and around him were swaths of their countrymen. It 
 looked as if he had been fighting his way to the water, 
 and had been overtaken by death as his feet reached the 
 edge. Nowhere in the pass did the dead lie so thick, 
 and yet he was no Hellene. He was torn like a deer that 
 the dogs had worried, but the little left of his garments 
 and his features spoke of Eastern race. The survivors 
 could tell nothing except that he had fought like a god, 
 and had been singing all the while. 
 
 The matter came to the ear of the Great King, who 
 was sore enough at the issue of the day. That one of his 
 men had performed feats of valor beyond the Hellenes 
 was a pleasant tale to tell. And so his captains reported 
 it. Accordingly, when the fleet from Artemisium ar- 
 rived next morning, and all but a few score Persians were 
 shoveled into holes that the Hellenes might seem to 
 have been conquered by a lesser force, Atta's body was 
 laid out with pomp in the midst of the Lacedaemonians. 
 And the seamen rubbed their eyes and thanked their 
 
 42 
 
THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 
 
 strange gods that one man of the East had been found to 
 match those terrible warriors whose name was a night- 
 mare. Further, the Great King gave orders that the body 
 of Atta should be embalmed and carried with the army, 
 and that his name and kin should be sought out and duly 
 honored. This latter was a task too hard for the staff, 
 and no more was heard of it till months after, when the 
 king, in full flight after Salamis, bethought him of the 
 one man who had not played him false. Finding that 
 his lieutenants had nothing to tell him, he eased five 
 of them of their heads. 
 
 As it happened, the deed was not quite forgotten. An 
 islander, a Lesbian and a cautious man, had fought at 
 Thermopylae in the Persian ranks, and had heard Atta's 
 singing and seen how he fell. Long afterwards some er- 
 rand took this man to Lemnos, and in the evening, speak- 
 ing with the Elders, he told his tale and repeated some- 
 thing of the song. There was that in the words which 
 gave the Lemnians a clue, the mention, I think, of the 
 olive-wood Hermes and the snows of Samothrace. So 
 Atta came to great honor among his own people, and his 
 memory and his words were handed down to the genera- 
 tions. The song became a favorite island lay, and for 
 centuries throughout the ^gean seafaring men sang it 
 when they turned their prows to wild seas. Nay, it 
 traveled farther, for you will find part of it stolen by 
 Euripides and put in a chorus of the "Andromache." 
 There are echoes of it in some of the epigrams of the 
 "Anthology"; and though the old days have gone, the 
 simple fisher-folk still sing snatches in their barbarous 
 dialect. The Klephts used to make a catch of it at night 
 
 43 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 round their fires in the hills, and only the other day I met 
 a man on Scyros who had collected a dozen variants and 
 was publishing them in a dull book on island folklore. 
 
 In the centuries which followed the great fight, the 
 sea fell away from the roots of the cliffs, and left a mile 
 of marshland. About fifty years ago a peasant, digging 
 in a rice-field, found the cup which Atta had given to 
 Poseidon. There was much talk about the discovery, 
 and scholars debated hotly about its origin. To-day it 
 is in the Munich Museum, and according to the new 
 fashion in archaeology it is labeled "Minoan," and kept 
 in the Cretan Section. But any one who looks carefully 
 will see behind the rim a neat little carving of a dolphin; 
 and I happen to know that this was the private badge of 
 Atta's house. 
 
THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 
 
 [427 B.C.] 
 BY THUCYDroES 
 
 [The cause of the Peloponnesian War was the rivalry 
 between Sparta and Athens. The Httle city of Platasa was a 
 faithful friend to Athens, and therefore the Spartans set 
 about its conquest. 
 
 The Editor^ 
 
 Archidamus first of all formed an inclosure round about 
 them with the trees they had felled, so that no one could 
 get out of the city. In the next place, they raised a 
 mount of earth before the place, hoping that it could not 
 long hold out a siege against the efforts of so large an 
 army. Having felled a quantity of timber on Mount 
 Cithaeron, with it they framed the mount on either side, 
 that thus cased it might perform the service of a wall, 
 and that the earth might be kept from mouldering away 
 too fast. Upon it they heaped a quantity of matter, 
 both stones and earth, and whatever else would cement 
 together and increase the bulk. This work employed 
 them for seventy days and nights without intermission, 
 all being alternately employed in it, so that one part of 
 the army was carrying it on, whilst the other took the 
 necessary refreshments of food and sleep. Those Lace- 
 dsemonians who had the command over the hired troops 
 of the other states had the care of the work, and obliged 
 them all to assist in carrying it on. The Plataeans, seeing 
 this mount raised to a great height, built a counterwork 
 of wood, close to that part of the city wall against which 
 
 45 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 this mount of earth was thrown up, and strengthened the 
 inside of it with bricks, which they got for this use by 
 pulling down the adjacent houses. The wooden case 
 was designed to keep it firm together, and prevent the 
 whole pile from being weakened by its height. They 
 further covered it over with sheepskins and hides of 
 beasts, to defend the workmen from missive weapons, 
 and to preserve the wood from being fired by the enemy. 
 This work within was raised to a great height, and the 
 mount was raised with equal expedition without. Upon 
 this, the Plata^ans had resource to another device. They 
 broke a hole through the wall, close to which the mount 
 was raised, and drew the earth away from under it into 
 the city. But this being discovered by the Peloponne- 
 sians, they threw into the hole hurdles made of reeds and 
 stuffed with clay, which being of a firm consistence could 
 not be dug away like earth. By this they were excluded, 
 and so desisted for a while from their former practice. 
 Yet digging a subterranean passage from out of the city, 
 which they so luckily continued that it undermined the 
 mount, they again withdrew the earth from under it. 
 This practice long escaped the discovery of the besiegers, 
 who still heaped on matter, yet the work grew rather 
 less, as the earth was drawn away from the bottom, and 
 that above fell in to fill up the void. However, still 
 apprehensive that, as they were few in number, they 
 should not be able long to hold out against such numer- 
 ous besiegers, they had recourse to another project. 
 They desisted from carrying on the great pile which was 
 to counterwork the mount, and beginning at each end of 
 it where the wall was low, they ran another wall in the 
 form of a crescent along the inside of the city, that if the 
 
 46 
 
THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 
 
 great wall should be taken this might afterwards hold 
 out, and might lay the enemy under the necessity of 
 throwing up a fresh mount against it, and that thus 
 the farther they advanced, the difficulties' of the siege 
 might be doubled, and be carried on with increase of 
 danger. 
 
 When their mount was completed, the Peloponne- 
 sians played away their battering-engines against the 
 wall ; and one of them they worked so dextrously from 
 the mount against the great pile within, that they shook 
 it very much, and threw the Plataeans into consternation. 
 Others they applied in different parts against the wall, 
 the force of which was broken by the Platasans, who threw 
 ropes around them ; they also tied large beams together, 
 with long chains of iron at both ends of the beams, by 
 which they hung downwards from two other transverse 
 beams inclined and extended beyond the wall. These 
 they drew along obliquely, and against whatever part 
 they saw the engine of battery to be aimed, they let go 
 the beams with a full swing of the chains, and so dropped 
 them down directly upon it, which by the weight of the 
 stroke broke off the beak of the battering engine. Upon 
 this, the Peloponnesians, finding all their engines useless, 
 and their mount effectually counterworked by the forti- 
 fication within, concluded it a business of no little hazard 
 to take the place amidst so many obstacles, and pre- 
 pared to draw a circumvallation about it. 
 
 But first they were willing to try whether it were not 
 possible to set the town on fire, and burn it down, as it 
 was not large, by help of a brisk gale of wind; for they 
 cast their thoughts towards every expedient of taking it 
 without a large expense and a tedious blockade. Pro- 
 
 47 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 curing for this purpose a quantity of fagots, they tossed 
 them from their own mount into the void space between 
 the wall and the inner fortification. As many hands 
 were employed in this business, they had soon filled it 
 up, and then proceeded to toss more of them into the 
 other parts of the city lying beyond, as far as they could 
 by the advantage which the eminence gave them. Upon 
 these they threw fiery balls made of sulphur and pitch, 
 which caught the fagots, and soon kindled such a flame 
 as before this time no one had ever seen kindled by the 
 art of man- It hath indeed sometimes happened, that 
 wood growing upon mountains hath been so heated by 
 the attrition of the winds, that without any other cause 
 it hath broken out into fire and flame. But this was ex- 
 ceeding fierce ; and the Platteans, who had bafiied all 
 other efforts, were very narrowly delivered from perish- 
 ing by its fury; for it cleared the city to a great dis- 
 tance round about, so that no Platsean durst approach 
 it: and if the wind had happened to have blown along 
 with it, as the enemy hoped, they must all unavoid- 
 ably have perished. It is now reported that a heavy 
 rain, falling on a sudden, attended with claps of thunder, 
 extinguished the flame, and put an end to this imminent 
 danger. 
 
 The Peloponnesians, upon the failure of this project, 
 marched away part of their army; but continuing the 
 remainder there, raised a wall of circumvallation quite 
 round the city, the troops of every confederate state 
 executing a determinate part of the work. Both inside 
 and outside of this wall was a ditch, and by first digging 
 these they had got materials for brick. This work being 
 completed about the rising of Arcturus, they left some 
 
 48 
 
THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 
 
 of their own men to guard half of the wall, the other half 
 being left to the care of the Boeotians, then marched 
 away with the main army, and dismissed the auxiliary 
 forces of their respective cities. The Plataeans had 
 already sent away to Athens their wives, their children, 
 their old people, and all the useless crowd of inhabitants. 
 There were only left in the town during the siege four 
 hundred Plataeans, eighty Athenians, and one hundred 
 and ten women to prepare their food. This was the 
 whole number of them when the siege was first formed; 
 nor was there any other person within the wall, either 
 slave or free. And in this manner was the city of Plataea 
 besieged in form. . . . 
 
 This winter the Plataeans, — for they were still 
 blocked up by the Peloponnesians and Boeotians, — find- 
 ing themselves much distressed by the failure of their 
 provisions, giving up all hope of succor from the Athe- 
 nians, and quite destitute of all other means of preserva- 
 tion, formed a project now in concert with those Athe- 
 nians who were shut up with them in the blockade, "first 
 of all to march out of the town in company, and to 
 compass their escape, if possible, over the works of the 
 enemy." The authors of this project were Thaeanetus, 
 the son of Timedes, a soothsayer, and Eumolpidas, the 
 son of Daimachus, who was one of their commanders. 
 But afterwards, half of the number, affrighted by the 
 greatness of the danger, refused to have a share in the 
 attempt. Yet the remainder, to the number of about 
 two hundred and twenty, resolutely adhered to attempt 
 an escape in the following manner: — 
 
 They made ladders equal in height to the enemy's 
 wall. The measure of this they learned from the rows of 
 
 49 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 brick, where the side of the wall facing them was not 
 covered over with plaster. Several persons were ap- 
 pointed to count the rows at the same time; some of 
 them might probably be wrong, but the greater part 
 would agree in the just computation; especially, as they 
 counted them several times over, and were besides at no 
 great distance, since the part marked out for the design 
 was plainly within their view. In this method, having 
 guessed the measure of a brick from its thickness, they 
 found out what must be the total height for the ladders. 
 
 The work of the Peloponnesians was of the following 
 structure: it was composed of two circular walls; one 
 towards Plataea, and the other outward, to prevent any 
 attack from Athens. These walls were at the distance 
 of sixteen feet one from the other; and this intermedi- 
 ate space of sixteen feet was built into distinct lodgments 
 for the guards. These, however, standing thick together, 
 gave to the whole work the appearance of one thick entire 
 wall with battlements on both sides. At every ten battle- 
 ments were lofty turrets of the same breadth with the 
 whole work, reaching from the face of the inward wall 
 to that of the outward : so that there was no passage by 
 the sides of a turret, but the communication lay open 
 through the middle of them all. By night, when the 
 weather was rainy, they quitted the battlements, and 
 sheltering themselves in the turrets, as near at hand 
 and covered overhead, there they continued their watch. 
 Such was the form of the work by which the Plateaus 
 were enclosed on every side. 
 
 The enterprising body, when everything was ready, 
 laying hold of the opportunity of a night tempestuous 
 with wind and rain, and further at a dark moon, marched 
 
 SO 
 
THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 
 
 out of the place. The persons who had been authors of 
 the project were now the conductors. And first, they 
 passed the ditch which surrounded the town ; then they 
 approached quite up to the wall of the enemy, undiscov- 
 ered by the guards. The darkness of the night prevented 
 their being seen, and the noise they made in approach- 
 ing was quite drowned in the loudness of the storm. 
 They advanced also at a great distance from one another, 
 to prevent any discovery from the mutual clashing of 
 their arms. They were further armed in the most com- 
 pact manner, and wore a covering only on the left foot, 
 for the sake of treading firmly in the sand. At one of the 
 intermediate spaces between the turrets they got under 
 the battlements, knowing they were not manned. The 
 bearers of the ladders went first and applied them to the 
 wall. Then twelve light-armed with only a dagger and 
 a breastplate scaled, led by Ammeas the son of Chorse- 
 bus, who was the first that mounted. His followers, in 
 two parties of six each, mounted next on each side of the 
 turrets. Then others Hght-armed with javelins succeeded 
 them. Behind came others holding the bucklers of those 
 above them, thus to facilitate their ascent, and to be 
 ready to deliver them into their hands, should they be 
 obliged to charge. When the greater part of the number 
 was mounted, the watchmen within the turrets perceived 
 it. For one of the Plataeans, in fastening his hold, had 
 thrown down a tile from off the battlements, which 
 made a noise in the fall ; and immediately was shouted an 
 alarm. The whole camp came running towards the wall, 
 yet unable to discover the reason of this alarm, so 
 dark was the night and violent the storm. At this crisis 
 the Plateaus, who were left behind in the city, sallied 
 
 51 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 forth and assaulted the work of the Peloponnesians, in 
 the part opposite to that where their friends were at- 
 tempting to pass, to divert from them as much as pos- 
 sible the attention of the enemy. Great was the con- 
 fusion of the enemy yet abiding in their posts, for not 
 one durst leave his station to run to the place of alarm, 
 but all were greatly perplexed to guess at its meaning. 
 At last the body of three hundred, appointed for a re- 
 serve of succor upon any emergency, marched without 
 the work to the place of alarm. Now the lighted torches, 
 denoting enemies, were held up towards Thebes. On 
 the other side, the Platasans in the city held up at the 
 same time from the wall many of these torches already 
 prepared for this very purpose, that the signals given of 
 the approach of foes might be mistaken by their enemies 
 the Thebans, who judging the affair to be quite otherwise 
 than it really was, might refrain from sending any succor, 
 till their friends who had sallied might have effectuated 
 their escape, and gained a place of security. 
 
 In the mean time those of the Plataeans, who having 
 mounted first, and by killing the guards had got posses- 
 sion of the turrets on either hand, posted themselves 
 there to secure the passage, and to prevent any manner 
 of obstruction from thence. Applying further their lad- 
 der to these turrets from the top of the wall, and causing 
 many of their number to mount, those now upon the 
 turrets kept off the enemies, running to obstruct them 
 both above and below, by discharging their darts; 
 whilst the majority, rearing many ladders at the same 
 time, and throwing down the battlements, got clean 
 over at the intermediate space between the turrets. 
 Every one, in the order he got over to the outward 
 
 52 
 
 I 
 
THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 
 
 side, drew up upon the inner brink of the ditch, and 
 from thence, with their darts and javeHns, kept off 
 those who were flocking towards the work to hinder 
 their passage. When all the rest were landed upon 
 the outside of the work, those upon the turrets, com- 
 ing down last of all and with difficulty, got also to the 
 ditch. By this time the reserve of three hundred was 
 come up to oppose them, by the light of torches. The 
 Platseans by this means, being in the dark, had a clear 
 view of them, and, from their stand upon the brink of the 
 ditch aimed a shower of darts and Javelins at those 
 parts of their bodies which had no armor. The Plataeans 
 were all obscured, as the glimmering of lights made them 
 less easy to be distinguished; so that the last of their 
 body got the ditch, though not without great difficulty 
 and toil. For the water in it was frozen, not into ice 
 hard enough to bear, but into a watery congelation, the 
 effect not of the northern but eastern blasts. The wind 
 blowing hard had caused so much snow to fall that night 
 that the water was swelled to a height not to be forded 
 without some difficulty. However, the violence of the 
 storm was the greatest furtherance of their escape. 
 
 The pass over the ditch being thus completed, the 
 Platasans went forwards in a body, and took the road to 
 Thebes, leaving on their right the temple of Juno, built 
 by Androcrates. They judged it would never be sup- 
 posed that they had taken a route which led directly 
 towards their enemies; and they saw at the same time 
 the Peloponnesians pursuing with torches along the 
 road to Athens, by Cythaeron and the Heads of the Oak. 
 For six or seven stadia, they continued their route 
 towards Thebes, but then turning short, they took the 
 
 53 
 
THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 road to the mountains by Erythrse and Hysiae; and 
 having gained the mountain, two hundred and twelve 
 of the number completed their escape to Athens. Some 
 of them, indeed, turned back into the city, without once 
 attempting to get over; and one archer was taken 
 prisoner at the outward ditch. 
 
 The Peloponnesians desisted from the fruitless pur- 
 suit, and returned to their posts. But the Plataeans with- 
 in the city, ignorant of the real event, and giving ear to 
 the assurances of those who turned back, that "they are 
 all to a man cut off," dispatched a herald, as soon as it 
 was day, to demand a truce for the fetching off the dead; 
 but learning hence the true state of the affair, they re- 
 mained well satisfied. And in this manner these men 
 of Platsea, by thus forcing a passage, wrought their own 
 preservation. . . , 
 
 The Plataeans, whose provisions were quite spent, and 
 who could not possibly hold out any longer, were brought 
 to a surrender in the following manner : — 
 
 The enemy made an assault upon their wall, which 
 they had not sufficient strength to repel. The Lace- 
 daemonian general being thus convinced of their languid 
 condition, was determined not to take the place by storm. 
 In this he acted pursuant to orders sent him from Lace- 
 daemon, with a view that whenever a peace should be 
 concluded with the Lacedaemonians — one certain con- 
 dition of which must be reciprocally to restore the places 
 taken in the war — Plataea might not be included in the 
 restitution, as having freely and without compulsion 
 gone over to them. A herald is accordingly dispatched 
 with this demand, "Whether they are willing volun- 
 tarily to give up the city to the Lacedaemonians, and 
 
 54 
 
THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 
 
 accept them for their judges who would punish only the 
 guilty, and contrary to forms of justice not even one of 
 those." The herald made this demand aloud. And the 
 Plataeans, who were now reduced to excessive weakness, 
 delivered up the city. 
 
 The Peloponnesians suppHed the Plataeans with neces- 
 sary sustenance for the space of a few days, till the five 
 delegates arrived from Lacedasmon to preside at their 
 trial. And yet, when these were actually come, no 
 judicial process was formed against them. They only 
 called them out, and put this short question to them — 
 "Whether they had done any service to the Lacedagmons 
 and their allies in the present war?" and upon their an- 
 swering, ''No," led them aside, and slew them. Not one 
 of the number did they exempt; so that in this massacre 
 there perished of Plataeans not fewer than two hundred, 
 and twenty-five Athenians who had been besieged in 
 their company; and all the women were sold for slaves. 
 The Thebans assigned the city, for the space of a year, 
 to be the residence of certain Megareans, who had been 
 driven from home in the rage of sedition, and to those 
 surviving Plataeans who had been friends to the Theban 
 interest. But afterwards they leveled it with the earth, 
 rooted up its whole foundation, and near to Juno's tem- 
 ple erected a spacious inn two hundred feet square, par- 
 titioned within both above and below into a range of 
 apartments. In this structure they made use of the roofs 
 and doors that had belonged to the Plataeans, and of the 
 other movables found within their houses ; of the brass 
 and iron they made beds which they consecrated to 
 Juno, in whose honor they also erected a fane of stone 
 one hundred feet in diameter. The land, being confis- 
 
 55 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 cated to public use, was farmed out for ten years, and 
 occupied by Thebans. So much, nay, so totally averse 
 to the Plataeans were the Lacedsemonians become; and 
 this, merely to gratify the Thebans, whom they regarded 
 as well able to serve them in the war which was now on 
 foot. And thus was the destruction of PlatEea completed 
 in the ninety-third year of its alliance with Athens. 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 [218 B.C.] 
 BY LIVY 
 
 [The second Punic War broke out in 218 b.c. Hannibal, the 
 Carthaginian general, determined to come down upon Rome 
 from the north. To do this, he was obliged to cross the river 
 Rhone, and then the Alps, The following account pictures 
 his difficulties and how he overcame them. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 Hannibal, the other states being pacified by fear or 
 bribes, had now come into the territory of the Volcae, a 
 powerful nation. They, indeed, dwell on both sides of 
 the Rhone: but doubting that the Carthaginians could 
 be driven from the higher bank, in order that they might 
 have the river as defense, having transported almost all 
 their effects across the Rhone, they occupied in arms the 
 farther bank of the river. Hannibal, by means of pres- 
 ents, persuaded the other inhabitants of the riverside, 
 and some even of the Volcae themselves, whom their 
 homes had detained, to collect from every quarter and 
 build ships; and they at the same time themselves de- 
 sired that the army should be transported, and their 
 country relieved, as soon as possible, from the vast mul- 
 titude of men that burdened it. A great number, there- 
 fore, of ships and boats rudely formed for the neighbor- 
 ing passages, were collected together; and the Gauls, 
 first beginning the plan, hollowed out some new ones 
 from single trees; and then the soldiers themselves, at 
 
 57 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 once induced by the plenty of materials and the easi- 
 ness of the work, hastily formed shapeless hulks, in which 
 they could transport themselves and their baggage, car- 
 ing about nothing else, provided they could float and 
 contain their burden. 
 
 And now, when all things were sufficiently prepared 
 for crossing, the enemy over against them occupying the 
 whole bank, horse and foot, deterred them. In order 
 to dislodge them, Hannibal orders Hanno, the son of 
 Hamilcar, at the first watch of the night, to proceed with 
 a part of the forces, principally Spanish, one day's jour- 
 ney up the river ; and having crossed it where he might 
 first be able, as secretly as possible, to lead round his 
 forces, that when the occasion required, he might attack 
 the enemy in the rear. The Gauls given him as guides 
 for the purpose inform him that about twenty-five 
 miles from thence, the river, spreading round a small 
 island, broader where it was divided, and therefore with 
 a shallower channel, presented a passage. At this place 
 timber was quickly cut down and rafts formed, on which 
 men, horses, and other burdens might be conveyed over. 
 The Spaniards, without making any difficulty, having 
 put their clothes in bags of leather, and themselves lean- 
 ing on their bucklers placed beneath them, swam across 
 the river. And the rest of the army, after passing on the 
 rafts joined together, and pitching their camp near the 
 river, being fatigued by the journey of the night and 
 the labor of the work, are refreshed by the rest of one 
 day, their leader being anxious to execute his design at a 
 proper season. Setting out next day from this place, they 
 signify by raising a smoke that they had crossed, and 
 were not far distant; which when Hannibal understood, 
 
 5S 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 that he might not be wanting on the opportunity, he 
 gives the signal for passing. The infantry aheady had 
 the boats prepared and fitted; a Hne of ships higher up 
 transporting the horsemen for the most part near their 
 horses swimming beside them, in order to break the 
 force of the current, rendered the water smooth to the 
 boats crossing below. A great part of the horses were 
 led across swimming, held by bridles from the stern, ex- 
 cept those which they put on board saddled and bridled, 
 in order that they might be ready to be used by the rider 
 the moment he disembarked on the strand. 
 
 The Gauls ran down to the bank to meet them with 
 various whoopings and songs, according to their custom, 
 shaking their shields above their heads, and brandish- 
 ing their weapons in their right hands, although such a 
 multitude of ships in front of them alarmed them, to- 
 gether with the loud roaring of the river, and the min- 
 gled clamors of the sailors and soldiers, both those who 
 were striving to break through the force of the current, 
 and those who from the other bank were encouraging 
 their comrades on their passage. While sufficiently dis- 
 mayed by this tumult in front, more terrifying shouts 
 from behind assailed them, their camp having been taken 
 by Hanno; presently he himself came up, and a twofold 
 terror encompassed them, both such a multitude of 
 armed men landing from the ships, and this unexpected 
 army pressing on their rear. When the Gauls, having 
 made a prompt and bold effort to force the enemy, were 
 themselves repulsed, they break through where a way 
 seemed most open, and fly in consternation to their vil- 
 lages around. Hannibal, now despising these tumultu- 
 ary onsets of the Gauls, having transported the rest of 
 
 59 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 his forces at leisure, pitches his camp. I believe that 
 there were various plans for transporting the elephants; 
 at least there are various accounts of the way in which 
 it was done. Some relate that after the elephants were 
 assembled together on the bank, the fiercest of them 
 being provoked by his keeper, pursued him as he swam 
 across the water, to which he had run for refuge, and 
 drew after him the rest of the herd; the mere force of 
 the stream hurrying them to the other bank, when the 
 bottom had failed each, fearful of the depth. But there 
 is more reason to beHeve that they were conveyed across 
 on rafts; which plan, as it must have appeared the safer 
 before execution, is after it the more entitled to credit. 
 
 Whilst the elephants were conveyed over, Hannibal, 
 in the mean time, had sent five hundred Numidian horse- 
 men towards the camp of the Romans, to observe 
 where and how numerous their forces were, and what 
 they were designing. The three hundred Roman horse- 
 men sent, as was before said, from the mouth of the 
 Rhone, meet this band of cavalry; and a more furious 
 engagement than could be expected from the number 
 of the combatants takes place. For, besides many 
 wounds, the loss on both sides was also nearly equal; 
 and the flight and dismay of the Numidians gave vic- 
 tory to the Romans, now exceedingly fatigued. There 
 fell of the conquerors one hundred and sixty, not all 
 Romans, but partly Gauls: of the vanquished more 
 than two hundred. This commencement, and at the 
 same time omen of the war, as it portended to the Ro- 
 mans a prosperous issue of the whole, so did it also the 
 success of a doubtful and by no means bloodless contest. 
 
 60 
 
HANNIBAL CROSSING THE RHONE 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 When;, after the action had thus occurred, his own men 
 returned to each general, Scipio could adopt no fixed 
 plan of proceeding, except that he should form his 
 measures from the plans and undertakings of the enemy; 
 and Hannibal, uncertain whether he should pursue the 
 march he had commenced into Italy, or fight with the 
 Roman army which had first presented itself, the arrival 
 of ambassadors from the Boii, and of a petty prince 
 called Magalus, diverted from an immediate engage- 
 ment; who, declaring that they would be the guides of 
 his journey and the companions of his dangers, gave it 
 as their opinion, that Italy ought to be attacked with the 
 entire force of the war, his strength having been nowhere 
 previously impaired. The troops indeed feared the 
 enemy, the remembrance of the former war not being 
 yet obliterated; but much more did they dread the im- 
 mense journey and the Alps, a thing formidable by re- 
 port, particularly to the inexperienced. 
 
 Hannibal, therefore, when his own resolution was 
 fixed to proceed in his course in advance on Italy, hav- 
 ing summoned an assembly, works upon the minds of 
 the soldiers in various ways, by reproof and exhortation. 
 He said that he wondered what sudden fear had seized 
 breasts ever before undismayed: that through so many 
 years they had made their campaigns with conquest; nor 
 had departed from Spain before all the nations and 
 countries which two opposite seas embrace were sub- 
 jected to the Carthaginians. That then, indignant that 
 the Romans demanded those, whosoever had besieged 
 Saguntum, to be delivered up to them, as on account of 
 a crime, they had passed the Iberus to blot out the name 
 of the Romans, and to emancipate the world. That 
 
 6i 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 then the way seemed long to no one, though they 
 were pursuing it from the setting to the rising of the sun. 
 That now, when they saw by far the greater part of the 
 journey accomphshed, the passes of the Pyrenees sur- 
 mounted, amid the most ferocious nations, the Rhone, 
 that mighty river, crossed, in spite of the opposition of 
 so many thousand Gauls, the fury of the river itself hav- 
 ing been overcome, when they had the Alps in sight, the 
 other side of which was Italy, should they halt through 
 weariness at the very gates of the enemy, imagining the 
 Alps to be — what else than lofty mountains? That 
 supposing them to be higher than the summits of the 
 Pyrenees, assuredly no part of the earth reached the sky, 
 nor was insurmountable by mankind. The Alps in fact 
 were inhabited and cultivated, — produced and sup- 
 ported living beings. Were they passable by a few men 
 and impassable to armies? That those very ambassa- 
 dors whom they saw before them had not crossed the 
 Alps borne aloft through the air on wings; neither were 
 their ancestors indeed natives of the soil, but settling 
 Italy from foreign countries, had often as emigrants 
 safely crossed these very Alps in immense bodies, with 
 their wives and children. To the armed soldier, carrying 
 nothing with him but the instruments of war, what in 
 reality was impervious or insurmountable? That Sa- 
 guntum might be taken, what dangers, what toils were 
 for eight months undergone ! Now, when their aim was 
 Rome, the capital of the world, could anything appear 
 so dangerous or difficult as to delay their undertaking? 
 That the Gauls had formerly gained possession of that 
 very country which the Carthaginians despair of being 
 able to approach. That they must, therefore, either 
 
 62 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 yield in spirit and valor to that nation which they had 
 so often during those times overcome; or look forward, as 
 the end of their journey, to the plain which spreads be- 
 tween the Tiber and the walls of Rome. 
 
 He orders them, roused by these exhortations, to re- 
 fresh themselves and prepare for the journey. Next day, 
 proceeding upward along the bank of the Rhone, he 
 makes for the inland part of Gaul: not because it was 
 the more direct route to the Alps, but believing that the 
 farther he retired from the sea, the Romans would be 
 less in his way; with whom, before he arrived in Italy, 
 he had no intention of engaging. After four days' march 
 he came to the Island : there the streams of the Aar and 
 the Rhone, flowing down from different branches of the 
 Alps, after embracing a pretty large tract of country, 
 flow into one. The name of the Island is given to the 
 plains that lie between them. The Allobroges dwell near, 
 a nation even in those days inferior to none in Gaul in 
 power and fame. They were at that time at variance. 
 Two brothers were contending for the sovereignty. The 
 elder, named Brancus, who had before been king, was 
 driven out by his younger brother and a party of the 
 younger men, who, inferior in right, had more of power. 
 When the decision of this quarrel was most opportunely 
 referred to Hannibal, being appointed arbitrator of the 
 kingdom, he restored the sovereignty to the elder, be- 
 cause such had been the opinion of the Senate and the 
 chief men. In return for this service, he was assisted 
 with a supply of provisions, and plenty of all necessaries, 
 particularly clothing, which the Alps, notorious for ex- 
 treme cold, rendered necessary to be prepared. After 
 composing the dissensions of the Allobroges, when he 
 
 63 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 now was proceeding to the Alps, he directed his course 
 thither, not by the straight road, but turned to the left 
 into the country of the Tricastini, thence by the ex- 
 treme boundary of the territory of the Vocontii he pro- 
 ceeded to the Tricorii; his way not being anywhere ob- 
 structed till he came to the river Druentia. This stream, 
 also arising amid the Alps, is by far the most difficult to 
 pass of all the rivers in Gaul; for though it rolls down 
 an immense body of water, yet it does not admit of ships; 
 because, being restrained by no banks, and flowing in 
 several and not always the same channels, and continu- 
 ally forming new shallows and new whirlpools (on which 
 account the passage is also uncertain to a person on foot), 
 and roHing down, besides, gravelly stones, it affords no 
 firm or safe passage to those who enter it; and having 
 been at that time swollen by showers, it created great 
 disorder among the soldiers as they crossed, when, in ad- 
 dition to other difficulties, they were of themselves con- 
 fused by their own hurry and uncertain shouts. 
 
 Pubhus Cornelius the consul, about three days after 
 Hannibal moved from the bank of the Rhone, had come 
 to the camp of the enemy, with his army drawn up in 
 square, intending to make no delay in fighting : but when 
 he saw the fortifications deserted, and that he could not 
 easily come up with them so far in advance before him, 
 he returned to the sea and his fleet, in order more easily 
 and safely to encounter Hannibal when descending from 
 the Alps. But that Spain, the province which he had 
 obtained by lot, might not be destitute of Roman auxil- 
 iaries, he sent his brother Cneius Scipio with the princi- 
 pal part of his forces against Hasdrubal, not only to de- 
 fend the old aUies and conciliate new, but also to drive 
 
 64 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 Hasdrubal out of Spain. He himself, with a very small 
 force, returned to Genoa, intending to defend Italy with 
 the army which was around the Po. From the Druentia, 
 by a road that lay principally through plains, Hannibal 
 arrived at the Alps without molestation from the Gauls 
 that inhabit those regions. Then, though the scene had 
 been previously anticipated from report (by which un- 
 certainties are wont to be exaggerated), yet the height 
 of the mountains when viewed so near, and the snows 
 almost mingling with the sky, the shapeless huts situ- 
 ated on the chffs, the cattle and beasts of burden with- 
 ered by the cold, the men unshorn and wildly dressed, 
 all things, animate and inanimate, stiffened with frost, 
 and other objects more terrible to be seen than described, 
 renewed their alarm. To them, marching up the first 
 acclivities, the mountaineers appeared occupying the 
 heights overhead; who, if they had occupied the more 
 concealed valleys, might, by rushing out suddenly to the 
 attack, have occasioned great flight and havoc. Hanni- 
 bal orders them to halt, and having sent forward Gauls 
 to view the ground, when he found there was no passage 
 that way, he pitches his camp in the wildest valley he 
 could find, among places all rugged and precipitous. 
 Then, having learned from the same Gauls, when they 
 had mixed in conversation with the mountaineers, from 
 whom they differed little in language and manners, that 
 the pass was only beset during the day, and that at night 
 each withdrew to his own dwelling, he advanced at the 
 dawn to the heights, as if designing openly and by day 
 to force his way through the defile. The day then being 
 passed in feigning a different attempt from that which 
 was in preparation, when they had fortified the camp in 
 
 6S 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the same place where they had halted, as soon as he per- 
 ceived that the mountaineers had descended from the 
 heights, and that the guards were withdrawn, having 
 Hghted for show a greater number of fires than was pro- 
 portioned to the number that remained, and having left 
 the baggage in the camp, with the cavalry and the prin- 
 cipal part of the infantry, he himself with a party of light- 
 armed, consisting of all the most courageous of his 
 troops, rapidly cleared the defile, and took post on those 
 very heights which the enemy had occupied. 
 
 At dawn of fight the next day the camp broke up, and 
 the rest of the army began to move forward. The moun- 
 taineers, on a signal being given, were now assembling 
 from their forts to their usual station, when they sud- 
 denly beheld part of the enemy overhanging them 
 from above, in possession of their fonner position, and 
 the others passing along the road. Both these objects, 
 presented at the same time to the eye and the mind, 
 made them stand motionless for a little while ; but when 
 they afterwards saw the confusion in the pass, and that 
 the marching body was thrown into disorder by the 
 tumult which itself created, principally from the horses 
 being terrified, thinking that whatever terror they added 
 would suffice for the destruction of the enemy, they 
 scramble along the dangerous rocks, as being accus- 
 tomed alike to pathless and circuitous ways. Then, in- 
 deed, the Carthaginians were opposed at once by the 
 enemy and by the difficulties of the ground; and each 
 striving to escape first from the danger, there was more 
 fighting among themselves than with their opponents. 
 The horses in particular created danger in the lines, 
 which, being terrified by the discordant clamors which 
 
 66 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 the groves and reechoing valleys augmented, fell into 
 confusion; and if by chance struck or wounded, they 
 were so dismayed that they occasioned a great loss both 
 of men and baggage of every description : and as the pass 
 on both sides was broken and precipitous, this tumult 
 threw many down to an immense depth, some even 
 of the armed men; but the beasts of burden, with their 
 loads, were rolled down Eke the fall of some vast fabric. 
 Though these disasters were shocking to view, Hanni- 
 bal, however, kept his place for a little, and kept his 
 men together, lest he might augment the tumult and dis- 
 order; but afterwards, when he saw the line broken and 
 that there was danger that he should bring over his 
 army, preserved to no purpose if deprived of their bag- 
 gage, he hastened down from the higher ground; and 
 though he had routed the enemy by the first onset alone, 
 he at the same time increased the disorder in his own 
 army: but that tumult was composed in a moment, 
 after the roads were cleared by the flight of the moun- 
 taineers; and presently the whole army was conducted 
 through, not only without being disturbed, but almost 
 in silence. He then took a fortified place, which was the 
 capital of that district, and the little villages that lay 
 around it, and fed his army for three days with the corn 
 and cattle he had taken; and during these three days, as 
 the soldiers were neither obstructed by the mountain- 
 eers, who had been daunted by the first engagement, 
 nor yet much by the ground, he made considerable way. 
 He then came to another state, abounding, for a 
 mountainous country, with inhabitants; where he was 
 nearly overcome, not by open war, but by his own arts 
 of treachery and ambuscade. Some old men, governors 
 
 67 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 of forts, came as deputies to the Carthaginian, profess- 
 ing, "that having been warned by the useful example 
 of the calamities of others, they wished rather to expe- 
 rience the friendship than the hostihties of the Cartha- 
 ginians: they would, therefore, obediently execute his 
 commands, and begged that he would accept of a supply 
 of provisions, guides of his march, and hostages for the 
 sincerity of their promises." Hannibal, when he had an- 
 swered them in a friendly manner, thinking that they 
 should neither be rashly trusted nor yet rejected, lest if 
 repulsed they might become enemies, having received 
 the hostages whom they proffered, and made use of the 
 provisions which they of their own accord brought down 
 to the road, follows their guides, by no means as among 
 a people with whom he was at peace, but with his line 
 of march in close order. The elephants and cavalry 
 formed the van of the marching body; he himself, exam- 
 ining everything around, and intent on every circum- 
 stance, followed with the choicest of the infantry. When 
 they came into a narrower pass, lying on one side be- 
 neath an overhanging eminence, the barbarians, rising 
 at once on all sides from their ambush, assail them in 
 front and rear, both at close quarters, and from a dis- 
 tance, and roll down huge stones on the army. The 
 most numerous body of men pressed on the rear ; against 
 whom the infantry, facing about and directing their 
 attack, made it very obvious that had not the rear 
 of the army been well supported, a great loss must have 
 been sustained in that pass. Even as it was they came 
 to the extremity of danger, and almost to destruction: 
 for while Hannibal hesitates to lead down his division 
 into the defile, because, though he himself was a protec- 
 
 68 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 tion to the cavalry, he had not in the same way left any 
 aid to the infantry in the rear; the mountaineers, charg- 
 ing obHquely, and on having broken through the middle 
 of the army, took possession of the road ; and one night 
 was spent by Hannibal without his cavalry and baggage. 
 Next day, the barbarians running in to the attack 
 between [the two divisions] less vigorously, the forces 
 were reunited, and the defile passed, not without loss, 
 but yet with a greater destruction of beasts of burden 
 than of men. From that time the mountaineers fell 
 upon them in smaller parties, more like an attack of 
 robbers than war, sometimes on the van, sometimes on 
 the rear, according as the ground afforded them advan- 
 tage, or stragglers advancing or loitering gave them an 
 opportunity. Though the elephants were driven through 
 steep and narrow roads with great loss of time, yet 
 wherever they went they rendered the army safe from 
 the enemy, because men unacquainted with such ani- 
 mals were afraid of approaching too nearly. On the 
 ninth day they came to a summit of the Alps, chiefly 
 through places trackless; and after many mistakes of 
 their way, which were caused either by the treachery of 
 the guides, or, when they were not trusted, by entering 
 valleys at random, on their own conjectures of the route. 
 For two days they remained encamped on the summit; 
 and rest was given to the soldiers, exhausted with toil 
 and fighting: and several beasts of burden, which had 
 fallen down among the rocks, by following the track of 
 the army arrived at the camp. A fall of snow, it being 
 now the season for the setting of the constellation of the 
 Pleiades, caused great fear to the soldiers, already worn 
 out with weariness of so many hardships. On the stand- 
 
 69 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 ards being moved forward at daybreak, when the army 
 proceeded slowly over all places entirely blocked up 
 with snow, and languor and despair strongly appeared 
 in the countenances of all, Hannibal, having advanced 
 before the standards, and ordered the soldiers to halt on 
 a certain eminence, whence there was a prospect far and 
 wide, points out to them Italy and the plains of the Po, 
 extending themselves beneath the Alpine mountains; 
 and said, "that they were now surmounting not only the 
 ramparts of Italy, but also of the city of Rome; that the 
 rest of the journey would be smooth and down-hill ; that 
 after one, or, at most, a second battle, they would have 
 the citadel and capital of Italy in their own power and 
 possession." The army then began to advance, the 
 enemy now making no attempts beyond petty thefts, 
 as opportunity offered. But the journey proved much 
 more difficult than it had been in the ascent, as the de- 
 clivity of the Alps being generally shorter on the side of 
 Italy is consequently steeper; for nearly all the road was 
 precipitous, narrow, and slippery, so that neither those 
 who made the least stumble could prevent themselves 
 from falling, nor, when fallen, remain in the same place, 
 but rolled, both men and beasts of burden, one upon 
 another. 
 
 They then came to a rock much more narrow, and 
 formed of such perpendicular ledges, that a light-armed 
 soldier, carefully making the attempt, and clinging with 
 his hands to the bushes and roots around, could with 
 difficulty lower himself. The ground, even before very 
 steep by nature, had been broken by a recent falling 
 away of the earth into a precipice of nearly a thou- 
 sand feet in depth. Here when the cavalry had halted, 
 
 70 
 
HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 
 
 as if at the end of their journey, it is announced to Han- 
 nibal, wondering what obstructed the march, that the 
 rock was impassable. Having then gone himself to view 
 the place, it seemed clear to him that he must lead his 
 army round it, by however great a circuit, through the 
 pathless and untrodden regions around. But this route 
 also proved impracticable; for while the new snow of 
 a moderate depth remained on the old, which had not 
 been removed, their footsteps were planted with ease as 
 they walked upon the new snow, which was soft and not 
 too deep; but when it was dissolved by the trampling of 
 so many men and beasts of burden, they then walked 
 on the bare ice below, and through the dirty fluid formed 
 by the melting snow. Here there was a wretched strug- 
 gle, both on account of the slippery ice not affording any 
 hold to the step, and giving way beneath the foot more 
 readily by reason of the slope; and whether they as- 
 sisted themselves in rising by their hands or their knees, 
 their supports themselves giving way, they would tum- 
 ble again; nor were there any stumps or roots near, by 
 pressing against which, one might with hand or foot sup- 
 port himself; so that they only floundered on the smooth 
 ice and amid the melted snow. The beasts of burden 
 sometimes also cut into this lower ice by merely tread- 
 ing upon it; at others they broke it completely through, 
 by the violence with which they struck in their hoofs in 
 their struggling, so that most of them, as if taken in a 
 trap, stuck in the hardened and deeply frozen ice. 
 
 At length, after the men and beasts of burden had 
 been fatigued to no purpose, the camp was pitched on 
 the summit, the ground being cleared for that purpose 
 with great difi&culty, so much snow was there to be dug 
 
 71 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 out and carried away. The soldiers being then set to 
 make a way down the cliff, by which alone a passage 
 could be effected, and it being necessary that they 
 should cut through the rocks, having felled and lopped 
 a number of large trees which grew around, they make 
 a huge pile of timber; and as soon as a strong wind fit 
 for exciting the flames arose, they set fire to it, and, 
 pouring vinegar on the heated stones, they render them 
 soft and crumbling. They then open a way with iron in- 
 struments through the rock thus heated by the fire, and 
 soften its declivities by gentle windings, so that not only 
 the beasts of burden, but also the elephants could be led 
 down it. Four days were spent about this rock, the 
 beasts nearly perishing through hunger: for the sum- 
 mits of the mountains are for the most part bare, and if 
 there is any pasture the snows bury it. The lower parts 
 contain valleys, and some sunny hills, and rivulets flow- 
 ing beside woods, and scenes m.ore worthy of the abode 
 of man. There the beasts of burden were sent out to 
 pasture, and rest given for three days to the men, fa- 
 tigued with forming the passage; they then descended 
 into the plains, the country and the dispositions of the 
 inhabitants being now less rugged. 
 
JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 
 
 BY T. RICE HOLMES 
 
 I 
 
 A BATTLE WITH THE GERMANS 
 [58 B.C.] 
 
 [The Helvetians of Switzerland left their homes for the 
 wider and more fertile fields of Gaul; but were overcome 
 and driven back by Julius Caesar. Many of the Gallic chiefs 
 came to congratulate the conqueror. Among them were cer- 
 tain leaders of the iEduans, who now appealed to him for aid. 
 The Sequani, they said, had asked the German tribes called 
 Suevi to come and help them against the ^duans. The 
 Suevi, or Suebi, had come and had conquered both iEduans 
 and Sequani. Ariovistus, the Suevi leader, was a blood- 
 thirsty tyrant, and was treating them with the utmost 
 cruelty. Would not the great commander Julius Cagsar free 
 them from his abuse? Caesar was more than ready to grant 
 their request. The yEduans were allies of the Romans, and 
 therefore he was bound to give help. Moreover, if the 
 Germans should overrun Gaul, their next step would be 
 into Italy. It was absolutely necessary for him to suppress 
 Ariovistus. An interesting point of this selection is that the 
 scene is laid in a region that is again [19 14] witnessing the 
 conflict of Teuton and Gaul. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 At the hour of the night on which he had fixed, Caesar 
 struck his camp. He left a detachment to hold Vesontio. 
 Before him all was unknown: but he had full faith in 
 Diviciacus; and Diviciacus undertook to be his guide. 
 To avoid the broken wooded country between Besangon 
 and Montbeliard, he made a circuit northward and 
 
 73 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 eastward, of about fifty miles, and then, threading the 
 pass of Belfort, debouched into the plain of the Rhine, 
 and pushed on rapidly past the eastern slopes of the 
 Vosges till he reached a point within twenty-two miles 
 of the German encampment. He has not told us where 
 he formed his own camp: probably it was on the river 
 Fecht, between Ostheim and Gemar. 
 
 On the same day Ariovistus marched southward, and 
 halted about six miles north of Caesar's camp, at the 
 very foot of the Vosges. He had conceived a daring 
 plan. Next morning his column ascended the lower 
 slopes, marched securely along them past the Roman 
 army, and took up a position two miles south of Caesar's 
 camp. As he looked up at the huge column winding 
 leisurely by, Caesar saw that he was being outmaneu- 
 vered: to send the legions up the hillside would be to 
 court destruction, and he could only wait, a passive 
 spectator, while Ariovistus was cutting his communi- 
 cations and barring up the road by which he expected 
 his supplies. 
 
 Next day Caesar formed up his army immediately in 
 front of the camp, under the protection of his artillery. 
 Ariovistus might attack if he liked: but if he attacked, 
 it would be at his peril; if he declined the challenge, the 
 legionaries would be assured that the Germans were 
 not invincible. Ariovistus remained where he was. On 
 each of the four following days Caesar offered battle; but 
 the enemy would not be provoked into leaving their 
 camp. Cavalry skirmishes indeed took place daily, but 
 without any decisive results. The Germans had light- 
 armed active footmen, who accompanied the cavalry 
 into action, each one of them selected by the rider 
 
 74 
 
JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 
 
 whom he attended: they were trained to run by the 
 horses' sides, holding on to their manes; and if the troop- 
 ers were forced to retreat, they supported them and 
 protected the wounded. As the infantry remained obsti- 
 nately in their camp, and it was necessary for Cassar to 
 win back communication with his convoys, he resolved 
 to take the initiative. Forming his legions in three par- 
 allel columns, prepared, at a moment's notice, to face 
 into line of battle, he marched back to a point about 
 a thousand yards south of Ariovistus's position, and 
 there marked out a site for a camp. One column fell 
 to work with their spades, while the other two formed 
 in two lines to protect them. Ariovistus sent a detach- 
 ment to stop the work ; but it was too late : the fighting 
 legions kept their assailants at bay, and the camp was 
 made. Two legions with a corps of auxiliaries were left 
 to hold it; and the other four returned to the larger 
 camp. Next day Caesar led his men into the open, but 
 not far from his camp, and again offered battle. Ario- 
 vistus again declined the challenge; but, as soon as 
 the legions had returned to their intrenchments, he 
 made a determined effort to storm the smaller camp, 
 and only drew off his forces at sunset. The Romans had 
 suffered as heavily as the Germans; but Csesar now 
 learned from prisoners that the enemy had been warned 
 by their wise women, whose divinations they accepted 
 with superstitious awe, that they could not gain the 
 victory unless they postponed the battle until after the 
 new moon. 
 
 Cassar saw his opportunity. He waited till the follow- 
 ing morning; and then, leaving detachments to guard 
 his two camps, he formed his six legions, as usual, in 
 
 75 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 three lines, and marched against the enemy. They had 
 no choice but to defend themselves. Their wagons stood 
 in a huge semicircle, closing their flanks and rear; and, 
 as they tramped out, their women stretched out their 
 hands and piteously begged them not to suffer their 
 wives to be made slaves. The host was formed in seven 
 distinct groups, each composed of the warriors of a sin- 
 gle tribe. As the Romans were numerically weaker than 
 their opponents, the auxiliaries were drawn up in front 
 of the smaller camp, to make a show of strength. Each 
 of the legaii was placed at the head of a legion, in order 
 that every one might feel that his courage in action 
 would not be overlooked. Caesar comm.anded the right 
 wing in person, and, noticing that the enemy's left was 
 comparatively weak, directed against it his principal 
 attack, in the hope of overwhelming it speedily and thus 
 disconcerting the rest of the force. But before the Ro- 
 mans in the front ranks could poise their javelins, the 
 Germans were upon them; and they had barely a mo- 
 ment to draw their swords. Quickly stiffening into com- 
 pact masses, the Germans locked their shields to receive 
 the thrusts: but some of the Romans flung themselves 
 right on to the phalanxes; they tore the shields from 
 the grasp of their foes, and dug their swords down into 
 them; and, after a close struggle, they broke the forma- 
 tion, and their weapons got freer play. The unwieldy 
 masses, unable to maneuver or to deploy, reeled back- 
 ward, dissolved, and fled. But the Roman left, overpow- 
 ered by numbers, was giving ground. Young Publius 
 Crassus, son of the celebrated triumvir, who was sta- 
 tioned in command of the cavalry, outside the battle, 
 saw the crisis, and promptly sent the third hne to the 
 
 76 
 
JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 
 
 rescue. The victory was won, and the whole beaten 
 multitude fled towards the Rhine. But the Rhine was 
 some iifteen miles away; the 111 had first to be crossed;, 
 and in that weary flight many fell under the lances. 
 of the cavalry. 
 
 II 
 
 BESIEGING A ROMAN CAMP 
 [S4 B.C.] 
 
 [Whenever a Roman army made a halt, if for only one 
 night, their camp was always carefully fortified with trench, 
 rampart, and palisade. It was such a camp as this that was 
 attacked by Ambiorix, He had been successful in a previ- 
 ous engagement, and now he induced the Atuatuci and the 
 Nervii to join him in another venture. The Roman leader, 
 Quintus Cicero, was a brother of the orator Cicero. 
 
 In substance, these accounts are taken from the narrative 
 of Caesar. 
 
 The Editor] 
 
 Ambiorix told the chiefs exultingly of his success. Here 
 was such a chance as they might never have again. 
 Cicero's camp was close by. Why should they not do as 
 he had done, — swoop down upon the solitary legion, 
 win back their independence for good, and take a 
 glorious revenge upon their persecutors? The chiefs 
 caught at the suggestion. The small tribes that owned 
 their sway flocked to join them: the Eburones, flushed 
 with victory, were there to help ; and the united host set 
 out with eager confidence for the Roman camp. Their 
 horsemen, hurrying on ahead, cut off a party of soldiers 
 who were felling wood. Not the faintest rumor of the 
 late disaster had reached Cicero; and the Gallic hordes 
 burst upon him like a bolt from the sky. Their first on- 
 
 77 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 slaught was so violent that even the disciplined courage 
 of the Romans barely averted destruction. Messengers 
 were instantly dispatched to carry the news to Caesar; 
 and Cicero promised to reward them well if they should 
 succeed in delivering his letters. Working all night with 
 incessant energy, the legionaries erected a large number 
 of wooden towers on the rampart, and made good the 
 defects in the fortifications. The Gauls, who meanwhile 
 had been strongly reinforced, returned in the morning 
 to the attack. They succeeded in filling up the trench; 
 but the garrison still managed to keep them at bay. 
 
 Day after day the siege continued; and night after 
 jiight and all night long the Romans toiled to make 
 ready for the morrow's struggle. The towers were fur- 
 nished with stories and embattled breastworks of wattle- 
 ivork: sharp stakes, burnt and hardened at the ends, 
 were prepared for hurling at the besiegers, and huge 
 pikes for stopping their rush if they should attempt an 
 assault. Even the sick and the wounded had to lend a 
 hand. Cicero himself was in poor health, but he worked 
 night and day; and it was not till the men gathered 
 round him and insisted on his sparing himself, that he 
 would take a Httle rest. His complaints, his Epicurean 
 studies, his abortive tragedies were forgotten; he remem- 
 bered only that he was a Roman general. Meanwhile 
 the Nervian leaders, who had expected an easy triumph, 
 were becoming impatient. They asked Cicero to grant 
 them an interview. Some of them knew him person- 
 ally; and they doubtless hoped that he would prove 
 compliant. They assailed him with the same arguments 
 that Ambiorix had found so successful with Sabinus. 
 They tried to frighten him by describing the massacre 
 
 78 
 
JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 
 
 at Atuatuca, and assured him that it was idle to hope 
 for relief. But they would not be hard upon him. All 
 that they wanted was to stop the inveterate custom of 
 quartering the legions for the winter in Gaul. If he and 
 his army would only go, they might go in peace whither- 
 soever they pleased. Cicero calmly replied that Romans 
 never accepted terms from an armed enemy. They 
 must first lay down their arms : then he would intercede 
 for them with Caesar; Caesar was always just, and 
 would doubtless grant their petition. 
 
 Disappointed though they were, the Gauls were not 
 disheartened. They determined to invest the camp in a 
 scientific manner. From the experience of past cam- 
 paigns they had got a rough idea of the nature of Roman 
 siege works; and now, with the quickness of their race, 
 they proceeded to imitate them. Some prisoners who 
 had fallen into their hands gave them hints. Having no 
 proper tools, they were obhged to cut the turf with their 
 swords, and to use their hands and even their cloaks in 
 piling the sod; but the workers swarmed in such prodi- 
 gious numbers that in three hours they had thrown up a 
 rampart, ten feet high and nearly three miles in extent. 
 They then proceeded, under the guidance of the pris- 
 oners, to erect towers, and to make sappers' huts, lad- 
 ders, and poles fitted with hooks for tearing down the 
 rampart of the camp. The huts, which were intended 
 to protect the men who had to fill up the trench and 
 demohsh the rampart, were partially closed in front, 
 and had sloping roofs, built of strong timbers, so as to 
 resist the crash of any stones which might be pitched on 
 to them, and were probably covered with clay and raw- 
 hides, as a protection against fire. On the seventh day 
 
 79 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 of the siege there was a great gale. The besiegers took 
 advantage of it to fling blazing darts and white-hot balls 
 of clay, which lighted on the straw thatch of the men's 
 huts; and the wind-swept flames flew all over the in- 
 closure. With a yell of exultation, the enemy wheeled 
 forward their towers and huts, and planted their lad- 
 ders : in another moment they were swarming up : but 
 all along the rampart, their dark figures outlined against 
 the fiery background, the Romans were standing ready 
 to hurl them down: harassed by showers of missiles, half 
 scorched by the fierce heat, regardless of the havoc that 
 the flames were making in their property, every man of 
 them stood firm; and hardly one so much as looked be- 
 hind. Their losses were heavier than on any previous 
 day. The Gauls, too, went down in scores; for those 
 in front could not retreat because of the masses that 
 pressed upon them from behind. In one spot a tower 
 was wheeled right up to the rampart. The centurions 
 of the Third Cohort coolly withdrew their men, and 
 with voice and gesture dared the Gauls to come on : but 
 none dared to stir a step: a shower of stones sent them 
 flying; and the deserted tower was set on fire. Every- 
 where the result was the same. The assailants were the 
 bravest of the Gauls: of death they had no fear: but 
 they had not the heart to hurl themselves upon that 
 living wall; and, leaving their slain in heaps, they sul- 
 lenly withdrew. 
 
 Still the siege went on; and to the wearied and weak- 
 ened legion its trials daily increased. Letters for Caesar 
 were sent out in more and more rapid succession. Some 
 of the messengers were caught in sight of the garrison, 
 and tortured to death. There was, however, in the 
 
 80 
 
JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 
 
 camp a Nervian named Vertico, who, just before the 
 siege, had thrown himself upon the protection of Cicero, 
 and had been steadfastly true to him. By lavish prom- 
 ises he induced one of his slaves to face the dangers 
 which to the Roman messengers had proved fatal. The 
 letter which he had to carry was fastened to a javelin 
 and concealed by the lashing. He passed his country- 
 men unnoticed, made his way safely to Samarobriva, 
 and delivered his dispatch. None of the other messen- 
 gers had arrived; and so close was the sympathy be- 
 tween the peasants and the insurgents that Csesar had 
 not heard a rumor of the siege. . . . 
 
 Everything now depended upon speed. Passing 
 through the Nervian territory, Caesar learned from some 
 peasants who fell into his hands that Cicero's situation 
 was all but desperate: immediately he wrote a letter 
 in Greek characters assuring him of speedy relief, and 
 offered one of his Gallic horsemen a large reward to de- 
 liver it. He told him, in case he should not be able to 
 get into the camp, to tie the letter to the thong of a 
 javelin and throw it inside. Dreading the risk of appre- 
 hension, the man did as Csesar had directed; but the 
 javelin stuck in one of the towers, and remained unno- 
 ticed for two days. A soldier then found it and took it to 
 Cicero, who read the letter to his exhausted troops. As 
 they gazed over the rampart, they saw clouds of smoke 
 floating far away over the west horizon, and knew that 
 Cassar was approaching and taking vengeance as he 
 came. 
 
 That night Caesar received a dispatch from Cicero, 
 warning him that the Gauls had raised the siege, and 
 had gone off to intercept him. Notwithstanding their 
 
 8i 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 heavy losses, they numbered, it was said, some sixty 
 thousand men. Ceesar made known the contents of the 
 dispatch to the troops, and encouraged them to nerve 
 themselves for the approaching struggle. A short march 
 in the early morning brought the legions to a rivulet, 
 running through a broad valley, beyond which the 
 enemy were encamped. Caesar had no intention of 
 fighting a battle against such heavy odds on unfavorable 
 ground. Cicero was in no danger ; and he was therefore 
 not pressed for time. He sent out scouts to look for a 
 convenient place to cross the river. Meanwhile he 
 marked out his camp on a slope, and constructed it on 
 the smallest possible scale in the hope of seducing the 
 enemy to attack him. But the enemy were expecting 
 reinforcements, and remained where they were. At 
 dawn their horsemen ventured across the river, and 
 attacked Caesar's cavalry, who promptly retreated in 
 obedience to orders. Sitting on their horses, the Gauls 
 could see inside the camp. An attempt was apparently 
 being made to increase the height of the rampart, and to 
 block the gateways. There was every appearance of 
 panic. Caesar had told his men what to do; and they 
 were hurrying about the camp with a pretense of nerv- 
 ous trepidation. The enemy hesitated no longer; and 
 in a short time they were all across the stream. They 
 had to attack uphill; but that mattered nothing against 
 such craven adversaries. Not even a sentry was stand- 
 ing on the rampart. Criers were sent round the camp to 
 say that if any man cared to come out and join the 
 Gauls, he would be welcome, — till eight o'clock. The 
 gates looked too strong to be forced, though there was 
 really only a mock barricade of sods, which could be 
 
 82 
 
JULIUS CESAR IN GAUL 
 
 knocked over in a moment. The Gauls walked right up 
 to the ditch, and began coolly filling it up, and actually 
 tearing down the rampart with their hands, — when 
 from right and left and front the cohorts charged : there 
 was a thunder of hoofs; and reeling backward in amaze- 
 ment before a rush of cavalry, they flung away their 
 arms and fled. 
 
 Caesar prudently stopped the pursuit, lest his troops 
 should become entangled in the outlying woods and 
 marches; but about three o'clock that afternoon the 
 legions reached Cicero's camp without the loss of a man. 
 With keen interest Csesar asked for details of the siege, 
 and gazed with admiring wonder at the enemy's de- 
 serted works. When the legion was paraded, he found 
 that not one man in ten was unwounded. Turning to 
 Cicero, he heartily thanked him for the magnificent 
 stand which he had made, and then, calling out, one by 
 one, the officers whom he mentioned as having shown 
 especial bravery, he addressed to them a few words of 
 praise. 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 FROM THE HEIMSKRINGLA 
 
 The Danish king, Svend Forked Beard, was married 
 to Sigrid the Haughty. Sigrid was King Olaf Trygg- 
 vason's greatest enemy; the cause of which was that 
 King Olaf had broken off with her, and had struck her 
 in the face. She urged King Svend much to give battle 
 to King Olaf Tryggvason; saying that he had reason 
 enough, as Olaf had married his sister Thyri without his 
 leave, ''and that your predecessors would not have 
 submitted to." Such persuasions Sigrid had often in 
 her mouth; and at last she brought it so far that Svend 
 resolved firmly on doing so. 
 
 Early in spring King Svend sent messengers east- 
 ward into Sweden, to his brother-in-law Olaf, the 
 Swedish king, and to Earl Eric; and informed them that 
 King Olaf of Norway was levying men for an expedi- 
 tion, and intended in summer to go to Vendland. To 
 this news the Danish king added an invitation to the 
 Swedish king and Earl Eric to meet King Svend with 
 an army, so that all together they might make an attack 
 on King Olaf Tryggvason. 
 
 The Swedish king and Earl Eric were ready enough 
 for this, and immediately assembled a great fleet and 
 an army through all Sweden, with which they sailed 
 southwards to Denmark, and arrived there before King 
 
 84 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 Olaf Tryggvason had sailed to the eastward. Haldor 
 the Unchristian tells of this in his lay on Earl Eric : — 
 
 "The king-subduer raised a host 
 Of warriors on the Swedish coast. 
 The brave went southwards to the fight, 
 Who love the sword-storm's gleaming light; 
 The brave, who fill the wild wolf's mouth, 
 Followed bold Eric to the south; 
 The brave, who sport in blood — each one 
 With the bold earl to sea is gone." 
 
 The Swedish king and Earl Eric sailed to meet the 
 Danish king, and they had all when together an im- 
 mense force. 
 
 At the same time that Earl Svend sent a message to 
 Sweden for an army, he sent Earl Sigvald to Vendland 
 to spy out King Olaf Tryggvason's proceedings, and 
 to bring it about by cunning devices that King Svend 
 and King Olaf should fall in with each other. So Sigvald 
 sets out to go to Vendland. First, he came to Jomsburg, 
 and then he sought out King Olaf Tryggvason. There 
 was much friendship in their conversation, and the earl 
 got himself into great favor with the king. Astrid, the 
 earl's wife. King Burislaf 's daughter, was a great friend 
 of King Olaf Tryggvason, particularly on account of 
 the connection which had been between them when 
 Olaf was married to her sister Geira. 
 
 Earl Sigvald was a prudent, ready-minded man ; and 
 as he had got a voice in King Olaf 's council, he put him 
 off much from sailing homewards, finding various rea- 
 sons for delay. Olaf's people were in the highest degree 
 dissatisfied with this; for the men were anxious to get 
 home, and they lay ready to sail, waiting only for a 
 wind. At last Earl Sigvald got a secret message from 
 
 8S 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Denmark that the Swedish king's army was arrived 
 from the east, and that Earl Eric's was also ready; and 
 that all these chiefs had resolved to sail eastwards to 
 Vendland, and wait for King Olaf at an island which 
 is called Svald. They also desired the earl to contrive 
 matters so that they should meet King Olaf there. 
 
 There came first a flying report to Vendland that the 
 Danish king, Svend, had fitted out an army; and it was 
 soon whispered that he intended to attack King Olaf. 
 But Earl Sigvald says to King Olaf, "It never can be 
 King Svend 's intention to venture with the Danish 
 force alone to give battle to thee with such a powerful 
 army, but if thou hast any suspicion that evil is on foot, 
 I will follow thee with my force [at that time it was 
 considered a great matter to have Jomsburg vikings 
 with an army], and I will give thee eleven manned 
 ships." 
 
 The king accepted this oflfer; and as the light breeze 
 of wind that came was favorable, he ordered the ships 
 to get under weigh, and the war-horns to sound the 
 departure. The sails were hoisted; and all the small 
 vessels, sailing fastest, got out to sea before the others. 
 The earl, who sailed nearest to the king's ship, called 
 to those on board to tell the king to sail in his keel- 
 tracks: "For I know where the water is deepest be- 
 tween the islands and in the sounds, and these large 
 ships require the deepest." Then the earl sailed first 
 with his eleven ships, and the king followed with his 
 large ships, also eleven in number; but the whole of the 
 rest of the fleet sailed out to sea. Now when Earl 
 Sigvald came sailing close under the island Svald, a 
 skiff rowed out to inform the earl that the Danish king's 
 
 86 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 army was lying in the harbor before them. Then the 
 earl ordered the sails of his vessels to be struck, and they 
 rowed in under the island. Haldor the Unchristian 
 says: — 
 
 "From out the south bold Tryggve's son 
 
 With one-and-seventy ships came on, 
 
 To dye his sword in bloody fight, 
 
 Against the Danish foeman's might. 
 
 But the false earl the king betrayed; 
 
 And treacherous Sigvald, it is said, 
 
 Deserted from King Olaf's fleet, 
 
 And basely fled, the Danes to meet." 
 
 It is said here that King Olaf and Earl Sigvald had 
 seventy sail of vessels and one more, when they sailed 
 from the south. 
 
 The Danish king Svend, the Swedish king Olaf, and 
 Earl Eric were there with all their forces. The weather 
 being fine, and clear sunshine, all these chiefs, with a 
 great suite, went out on the isle to see the vessels sail- 
 ing out at sea, and many of them crowded together; 
 and they saw among them one large and glancing ship. 
 The two kings said, "That is a large and very beauti- 
 ful vessel: that will be the Long Serpent," 
 
 Earl Eric replied, — 
 
 "That is not the Long Serpent." And he was right;, 
 for it was a ship belonging to Endric of Grimsar. 
 
 Soon after they saw another vessel coming sailing 
 along much larger than the first; then says King- 
 Svend, — 
 
 "Olaf Tryggvason must be afraid, for he does not 
 venture to sail with the figure-head of the dragon upon 
 his ship." 
 
 Says Earl Eric, — 
 
 87 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 "That is not the king's ship yet; for I know that ship 
 by the colored stripes of cloth in her sail. That is Eriing 
 Skialgsson. Let him sail; for it is better for us that this 
 ship is away from Olaf's fleet, so well equipped as she 
 is." 
 
 Soon after they saw and knew Earl Sigvald's ships, 
 which turned in and laid themselves under the island. 
 Then they saw three ships coming along under sail, and 
 one of them very large. King Svend ordered his men 
 to go to their ships, "for there comes the Long Serpent." 
 
 Earl Eric says, — 
 
 "Many other great and stately vessels have they 
 besides the Long Serpent. Let us wait a little." 
 
 Then said many, — 
 
 "Earl Eric will not fight and avenge his father; and 
 It is a shame that it should be told that we lay here 
 with so great a force, and allowed King Olaf to sail out 
 to sea before our eyes." 
 
 But when they had spoken thus for a short time, they 
 saw four ships come sailing along, of which one had a 
 large dragon-head richly gilt. Then King Svend stood 
 up, and said, — 
 
 "That dragon shall carry me this evening high, for 
 I shall steer it." 
 
 Then said many, — 
 
 "The Serpent is indeed a wonderfully large and 
 beautiful vessel, and it shows a great mind to have 
 built such a ship." 
 
 Earl Eric said so loud that several persons heard him, 
 
 "If King Olaf had no other vessels but only that one. 
 King Svend would never take it from him with the 
 Danish force alone." 
 
 88 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 Thereafter all the people rushed on board their ships, 
 took down the tents, and in all haste made ready for 
 battle. 
 
 While the chiefs were speaking among themselves, 
 as above related, they saw three very large ships coming 
 sailing along, and at last after them a fourth, and that 
 was the Long Serpent. Of the large ships which had 
 gone before, and which they had taken for the Long 
 Serpent, the first was the Crane; the one after that was 
 the Short Serpent; and when they really saw the Long 
 Serpent all knew, and nobody had a word to say against 
 it, that it must be Olaf Tryggvason who was sailing in 
 such a vessel; and they went to their ships to arm for 
 the fight. 
 
 An agreement had been concluded among the chiefs, 
 King Svend, King Olaf the Swede, and Earl Eric, that 
 they should divide Norway among them in three parts, 
 in case they succeeded against Olaf Tryggvason; but 
 that he of the chiefs who should first board the Serpent 
 should have her and all the booty found in her, and each 
 should have the ships he cleared for himself. Earl Eric 
 had a large ship of war which he used upon his viking 
 expeditions; and there was an iron beard or comb above 
 on both sides of the stem, and below it a thick iron plate 
 as broad as the combs, which went down quite to the 
 gunwale. 
 
 When Earl Sigvald with his vessels rov/ed in under the 
 island, Thorkel Dyrdil of the Crane, and the other ship 
 commanders who sailed with him, saw that he turned 
 his ships towards the isle, and thereupon let fall the 
 sails, and rowed after him, calling out, and asking why 
 he sailed that way. The earl answered, that he was 
 
 89 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 waiting for King Olaf, as he feared there were enemies 
 in the way. They lay upon their oars until Thorkel 
 Nefia came up with the Short Serpent and the three 
 ships which followed him. When they told them the 
 same, they too struck sail, and let the ships drive, wait- 
 ing for King Olaf. But when the king sailed in towards 
 the isle, the whole enemies' fleet came rowing within 
 them out to the Sound. When they saw this, they 
 begged the king to hold on his way, and not risk battle 
 with so great a force. The king replied, high on the 
 quarterdeck where he stood, "Strike the sails; never 
 shall men of mine think of flight. I never fled from 
 battle. Let God dispose of my life, but flight I shall 
 never take." It was done as the king commanded. 
 Half red tells of it thus: — 
 
 "And far and wide the saying bold 
 Of the brave warrior shall be told. 
 The king, in many a fray well tried, 
 To his brave champions round him cried, 
 * My men shall never learn from me 
 From the dark weapon-cloud to flee.' 
 Nor were the brave words spoken then 
 Forgotten by his faithful men." 
 
 King Olaf ordered the war-horns to sound for all his 
 ships to close up to each other. The king's ship lay in 
 the middle of the line, and on one side lay the Short Ser- 
 pent, and on the other the Crane; and as they made fast 
 the stems together, the Long Serpent's stem and the 
 Short Serpent's were fast together; but when the king 
 saw it he called out to his men, and ordered them to lay 
 the larger ship more in advance, so that its stern should 
 not lie so far behind in the fleet. 
 
 Then says Ulf the Red, — 
 
 90 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 "If the Long Serpent is to lie as much more ahead of 
 the other ships as she is longer than they, we shall have 
 hard work of it here on the forecastle." 
 
 The king replies, — 
 
 "I did not think I had a forecastle man afraid as well 
 as red."i 
 
 Says Ulf , — 
 
 "Defend thou the quarterdeck as I shall the fore- 
 castle." 
 
 The king had a bow in his hands, and laid an arrow on 
 the string, and aimed at Ulf. 
 
 Ulf said, — 
 
 "Shoot another way, king, where it is more needful: 
 my work is thy gain." 
 
 King Olaf stood on the Serpent's quarterdeck, high 
 over the others. He had a gilt shield, and a helmet in- 
 laid with gold; over his armor he had a short red coat, 
 and was easy to be distinguished from other men. When 
 King Olaf saw that the scattered forces of the enemy 
 gathered themselves together under the banners of their 
 ships, he asked, — 
 
 "Who is the chief of the force right opposite to us?" 
 
 He was answered that it was King Svend with the 
 Danish army. 
 
 The king replies, — 
 
 "We are not afraid of these soft Danes, for there is no 
 bravery in them ; but who are the troops on the right of 
 the Danes?" 
 
 He was answered that it was King Olaf with the Swed- 
 ish forces. 
 
 "Better it were," says King Olaf, "for these Swedes 
 
 * Ragan oc Raudan. 
 91 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 to be sitting at home killing their sacrifices, than to be 
 venturing under our weapons from the Long Serpent. 
 But who owns the large ships on the larboard side of the 
 Danes?" 
 
 "That is Earl Eric Hakonson," say they. 
 The king replies, — 
 
 "He, methinks, has good reason for meeting us; and 
 we may expect the sharpest conflict with these men, for 
 they are Norsemen like ourselves." 
 
 The kings now laid out their oars, and prepared to 
 attack. King Svend laid his ship against the Long Ser- 
 pent. Outside of him Olaf the Swede laid himself, and 
 set his ship's stem against the outermost ship of King 
 Olaf's line; and on the other side lay Earl Eric. Then a 
 hard combat began. Earl Sigvald held back with the 
 oars on his ships, and did not join the fray. So says 
 Scald Thorsteinson, who at that time was with Earl 
 Eric : — 
 
 "I followed Sigvald in my youth, 
 
 And gallant Eric; and in truth, 
 
 Tho' now I am growing stiff and old, 
 
 In the spear-song I once was bold. 
 
 Where arrows whistled on the shore 
 
 Of Swalder fiord my shield I bore, 
 
 And stood amidst the loudest clash 
 
 When swords on shields made fearful crash." 
 
 And Half red also sings thus: — 
 
 "In truth, I think the gallant king, 
 Midst such a foeman's gathering, 
 Would be the better of some score 
 Of his tight Drontheim lads, or more; 
 For many a chief has run away, 
 And left our brave king in the fray, 
 Two great kings' power to withstand, 
 And one great earl's, with his small band. 
 
 92 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 The king who dares such mighty deed 
 A hero for his scald would need." 
 
 This battle was one of the severest told of, and many 
 were the people slain. The forecastle men of the Long 
 Serpent, the Short Serpent, and the Crane, threw 
 grapplings and stem chains'into King Svend's ship, and 
 used their weapons well against the people standing be- 
 low them, for they cleared the decks of all the ships they 
 could lay fast hold of; and King Svend, and all the men 
 who escaped, fled to other vessels, and laid themselves 
 out of bow-shot. It went with this force just as King 
 Olaf Tryggvason had foreseen. Then King Olaf the 
 Swede laid himself in their place; but when he came near 
 the great ships it went with him as with them, for he lost 
 many men and some ships, and was obliged to get away. 
 But Earl Eric laid the Iron Beard side by side with the 
 outermost of King Olaf's ships, thinned it of men, cut 
 the cables, and let it drive. Then he lay alongside of 
 the next, and fought until he had cleared it of men also. 
 Now all the people who were in the smaller ships began 
 to run into the larger, and the earl cut them loose as fast 
 as he cleared them of men. The Danes and Swedes laid 
 themselves now out of shooting distance all around 
 Olaf's ship; but Earl Eric lay always close alongside of 
 the ships, and used his swords and battle-axes, and as 
 fast as people fell in his vessel others, Danes and Swedes, 
 came in their place. So says Haldor: — 
 
 "Sharp was the clang of shield and sword, 
 And shrill the song of spears on board, 
 And whistling arrows thickly flew 
 Against the Serpent's gallant crew. 
 And still fresh foemen, it is said, 
 Earl Eric to her long side led; 
 
 93 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Whole armies of his Danes and Swedes, 
 Wielding on high their blue sword-blades." 
 
 Then the fight became most severe, and many people 
 fell. But at last it came to this, that all King Olaf Trygg- 
 vason's ships were cleared of men except the Long Ser- 
 pent, on board of which all who could still carry their 
 arms were gathered. Then Iron Beard lay side by side 
 with the Serpent, and the fight went on with battle-axe 
 and sword. So says Haldor: — 
 
 "Hard pressed on every side by foes, 
 The Serpent reels beneath the blows; 
 Crash go the shields around the bow. 
 Breast-plates and breasts pierced thro' and thro'! 
 In the sword-storm the Holm beside, 
 The Iron Beard lay alongside 
 The king's Long Serpent of the sea — 
 Fate gave the earl the victory." 
 
 Earl Eric was in the forehold of his ship, where a cover 
 of shields had been set up. In the fight, both hewing 
 weapons, sword, and axe, and the thrust of spears had 
 been used; and all that could be used as weapon for cast- 
 ing was cast. Some used bows, some threw spears with 
 the hand. So many weapons were cast into the Serpent, 
 and so thick flew spears and arrows, that the shields 
 could scarcely receive them ; for on all sides the Serpent 
 was surrounded by war-ships. Then King Olaf's men 
 became so mad with rage, that they ran on board of the 
 enemies' ships, to get at the people with stroke of sword 
 and kill them; but many did not lay themselves so near 
 the Serpent, in order to escape the close encounter with 
 battle-axe or sword; and thus the most of Olaf's men 
 went overboard and sank under their weapons, thinking 
 they were fighting on plain ground. So says Half red: — 
 
 94 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 "The daring lads shrink not from death, — 
 O'erboard they leap, and sink beneath 
 The Serpent's keel: all armed they leap. 
 And down they sink five fathoms deep. 
 The foe was daunted at their cheers: 
 The king, who still the Serpent steers, 
 In such a strait — beset with foes — 
 Wanted but some more lads like those." 
 
 Einar Tambarskelver, one of the sharpest of bow- 
 shooters, stood by the mast, and shot with his bow. 
 Einar shot an arrow at Earl Eric, which hit the tiller-end 
 just above the earl's head so hard that it entered the 
 wood up to the arrow-shaft. The earl looked that way, 
 and asked if they knew who had shot; and at the same 
 moment another arrow flew between his hand and his 
 side, and into the stuffing of the chief's stool, so that the 
 barb stood far out on the other side. Then said the earl 
 to a man called Fin, — but some say he was of Finn 
 (Laplander) race, and was a superior archer, — "Shoot 
 that tall man by the mast." Fin shot; and the arrow hit 
 the middle of Einar's bow Just at the moment that Einar 
 was drawing it, and the bow was split in two parts. 
 
 "What is that," cried King Olaf, "that broke with 
 such a noise?" 
 
 "Norway, king, from thy hands," cried Einar. 
 
 "No! not quite so much as that," says the king; 
 " take my bow, and shoot," flinging the bow to him. 
 
 Einar took the bow, and drew it over the head of the 
 arrow. "Too weak, too weak," said he, "for the bow of 
 a mighty king!" and throwing the bow aside, he took 
 sword and shield, and fought valiantly. 
 
 The king stood on the gangways of the Long Serpent, 
 and shot the greater part of the day; sometimes with the 
 
 95 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 bow, sometimes with the spear, and always throwing 
 two spears at once. He looked down over the ship's side, 
 and saw that his men struck briskly with their swords, 
 and yet wounded but seldom. Then he called aloud, 
 "Why do ye strike so gently that ye seldom cut? " One 
 among the people answered, "The swords are blunt and 
 full of notches." Then the king went down into the fore- 
 hold, opened the chest under the throne, and took out 
 many sharp swords, which he handed to his men ; but as 
 he stretched down his right hand with them, some ob- 
 served that blood was running down under his steel 
 glove, but no one knew where he was wounded. 
 
 Desperate was the defense in the Serpent, and there 
 was the heaviest destruction of men done by the fore- 
 castle crew, and those of the forehold, for in both places 
 the men were chosen men, and the ship was highest; but 
 in the middle of the ship the people were thinned. Now 
 when Earl Eric saw there were but few people remaining 
 beside the ship's mast, he determined to board; and he 
 entered the Serpent with four others. Then came Hyrn- 
 ing, the king's brother-in-law, and some others against 
 him, and there was the most severe combat; and at last 
 the earl was forced to leap back on board the Iron Beard 
 again, and some who had accompanied him were killed, 
 and others wounded. Thord Kolbeinsson alludes to 
 this: — 
 
 "On Odin's deck, all wet with blood, 
 
 The helm-adorned hero stood; 
 
 And gallant Hyrning honor gained, 
 
 Clearing all round with sword deep stained. 
 
 The high Fielde peaks shall fall, 
 
 Ere men forget this to recall." 
 
 Now the fight became hot indeed, and many men 
 
 96 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 fell on board the Serpent; and the men on board of her 
 began to be thinned off, and the defense to be weaker. 
 The earl resolved to board the Serpent again, and again 
 he met with a warm reception. When the forecastle men 
 of the Serpent saw what he was doing, they went aft and 
 made a desperate fight; but so many men of the Serpent 
 had fallen, that the ship's sides were in many places 
 quite bare of defenders; and the earl's men poured in all 
 around into the vessel, and all the men who were still 
 able to defend the ship crowded aft to the king, and ar- 
 rayed themselves for his defense. So says Haldor the 
 Unchristian: — 
 
 "Eric cheers on his men, — 
 *0n to the charge again!' 
 The gallant few 
 Of Olaf's crew 
 Must refuge take 
 On the quarterdeck. 
 Around the king 
 They stand in ring; 
 Their shields inclose 
 The king from foes, 
 And the few who still remain 
 Fight madly, but in vain. 
 Eric cheers on his men — 
 *0n to the charge again!'" 
 
 Kolbiorn the marshal, who had on clothes and arms 
 like the king's, and was a remarkably stout and hand- 
 some man, went up to the king on the quarterdeck. The 
 battle was still going on fiercely even in the forehold. 
 But as many of the earl's men had now got into the Ser- 
 pent as could find room, and his ships lay all round her, 
 and few were the people left in the Serpent for defense 
 against so great a force; and in a short time most of the 
 
 97 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Serpent's men fell, brave and stout though they were. 
 King Olaf and Kolbiorn the marshal both sprang over- 
 board, each on his own side of the ship; but the earl's 
 men had laid out boats around the Serpent, and killed 
 those who leaped overboard. Now when the king had 
 sprung overboard, they tried to seize him with their 
 hands, and bring him to Earl Eric; but King Olaf threw 
 his shield over his head, and sank beneath the waters. 
 Kolbiorn held his shield behind him to protect himself 
 from the spears cast at him from the ships which lay 
 round the Serpent, and he fell so upon his shield that it 
 came under him, so that he could not sink so quickly. 
 He was thus taken, and brought into a boat, and they 
 supposed he was the king. He was brought before the 
 earl; and when the earl saw it was Kolbiorn, and not the 
 king, he gave him his life. At the same moment all of 
 King Olaf 's men who were in life sprang overboard from 
 the Serpent; and Thorkel Nefia, the king's brother, was 
 the last of all the men who sprang overboard. It is thus 
 told concerning the king by Half red : — 
 
 "The Serpent and the Crane 
 Lay wrecks upon the main. 
 On his sword he cast a glance, — 
 With it he saw no chance. 
 To his marshal, who of yore 
 Many a war-chance had come o'er, 
 He spoke a word — then drew in breath, 
 And sprang to his deep-sea death." 
 
 Earl Sigvald, as before related, came from Vendland, 
 in company with King Olaf, with ten ships; but the 
 eleventh ship was manned with the men of Astrid, the 
 king's daughter, the wife of Earl Sigvald. Now when 
 King Olaf sprang overboard, the whole army raised a 
 
 98 
 
A VIKING SEA FIGHT 
 
 shout of victory; and then Earl Sigvald and his men put 
 their oars in the water and rowed towards the battle. 
 Haldor the Unchristian tells of it thus: — 
 
 "Then first the Vendland vessels came 
 Into the fight with little fame; 
 The fight still lingered on the wave, 
 Tho' hope was gone with Olaf brave. 
 War, like a full-fed ravenous beast, 
 Still oped her grim jaws for the feast. 
 The few who stood now quickly fled, 
 When the shout told — 'Olaf is dead!'" 
 
 But the Vendland cutter, in which Astrid's men were, 
 rowed back to Vendland; and the report went immedi- 
 ately abroad, and was told by many, that King Olaf had 
 cast off his coat of mail under water, and had swam, 
 diving under the long-ships, until he came to the Vend- 
 land cutter, and that Astrid's men had conveyed him to 
 Vendland: and many tales have been made since about 
 the adventures of Olaf the king. Halfred speaks thus 
 about it: — 
 
 "Does Olaf live? or is he dead? 
 Has he the hungry ravens fed? 
 I scarcely know what I should say, 
 For many tell the tale each way. 
 This I can say, nor fear to lie. 
 That he was wounded grievously, — 
 So wounded in this bloody strife, 
 He scarce could come away with life." 
 
 But however this may have been, King Olaf Trygg- 
 vason never came back again to his kingdom of Nor- 
 way. 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 [1066] 
 
 BY EDWARD BULWEE-LYTTON 
 
 [After the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold, Earl of 
 Wessex, was elected king. William of Normandy averred 
 that Edward had promised him the crown — which in any 
 case he had no right to do — and that he should defend 
 his claim. His preparations, however, took many months, 
 and in the mean time, Harold's brother Tostig encouraged 
 Harold Hardrada, King of Norway, to make an attack upon 
 England. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 At the news of this foe on the north side of the land, 
 King Harold was compelled to withdraw all the forces 
 at watch in the south against the tardy invasion of 
 William. It was the middle of September; eight months 
 had elapsed since the Norman had launched forth his 
 vaunting threat. Would he now dare to come? Come or 
 not, that foe was afar, and this was in the heart of the 
 country! 
 
 Now, York having thus capitulated, all the land 
 round was humbled and awed; and Hardrada and Tostig 
 were blithe and gay; and many days, thought they, 
 must pass ere Harold the King can come from the south 
 to the north. 
 
 The camp of the Norsemen was at Stanford Bridge, 
 and that day it was settled that they should formally 
 enter York. Their ships lay in the river beyond; a large 
 
 100 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 
 portion of the armament was with the ships. The day 
 was warm, and the men with Hardrada had laid aside 
 their heavy mail and were "making merry," talking of 
 the plunder of York, jeering at Saxon valor, and gloating 
 over thoughts of the Saxon maids, whom Saxon men had 
 failed to protect, — when suddenly between them and 
 the town rose and rolled a great cloud of dust. High it 
 rose, and fast it rolled, and from the heart of the cloud 
 shone the spear and the shield. 
 
 "What army comes yonder?" said Harold Hardrada. 
 
 "Strely," answered Tostig, "it comes from the town 
 that we are to enter as conquerors, and can be but the 
 friendly Northumbrians who have deserted IMorcar for 
 me." 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the force, and the shine of the 
 arms was like the glancing of ice. 
 
 "Advance the World-Ravager!" cried Harold Har- 
 drada, "draw up and to arms!" 
 
 Then, picking out three of his briskest youths, he 
 dispatched them to the force on the river with orders 
 to come up quick to the aid. For already, through the 
 cloud and amidst the spears, was seen the flag of the 
 English King. On the previous night King Harold had 
 entered York, unknown to the invaders — appeased the 
 mutiny — cheered the townsfolks; and now came, like 
 the thunderbolt borne by the winds, to clear the air of 
 England from the clouds of the North. 
 
 Both armaments drew up in haste, and Hardrada 
 formed his array in the form of a circle, — the line long 
 but not deep, the wings curving round till they met 
 shield to shield. Those who stood in the first rank set 
 their spear-shafts on the ground, the points level v/ith 
 
 lOI 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the breast of a horseman; those in the second, with 
 spears yet lower, level with the breast of a horse; thus 
 forming a double palisade against the charge of cavalry. 
 In the center of this circle was placed the Ravager of 
 the World, and round it a rampart of shields. Behind 
 that rampart was the accustomed post at the onset 
 of battle for the king and his body-guard. But Tostig 
 was in front, with his own Northumbrian Lion banner, 
 and his chosen men. 
 
 While this army was thus being formed, the English 
 king was marshaling his force in the far more formid- 
 able tactics, which his military science had perfected 
 from the warfare of the Danes. That form of battalion, 
 invincible hitherto under his leadership, was in the man- 
 ner of a wedge or triangle, thus A. So that, in attack, 
 the men marched on the foe presenting the smallest 
 possible surface to the missiles, and, in defense, all 
 three lines faced the assailants. King Harold cast his 
 eye over the closing lines, and then, turning to Gurth, 
 who rode by his side, said : — 
 
 "Take one man from yon hostile army, and with 
 what joy should we charge on the Northmen!" 
 
 "I conceive thee," answered Gurth mournfully, "and 
 the same thought of that one man makes my arm feel 
 palsied." 
 
 The king mused, and drew down the nasal bar of his 
 helmet. 
 
 "Thegns," said he suddenly, to the score of riders who 
 grouped round him, "follow." And shaking the rein of 
 his horse. King Harold rode straight to that part of the 
 hostile front from which rose, above the spears, the 
 Northumbrian banner of Tostig. Wondering, but mute, 
 
 102 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 
 the twenty thegns followed him. Before the grim array, 
 and hard by Tostig's banner, the king checked his steed 
 and cried : — 
 
 "Is Tostig, the son of Godwin and Githa, by the flag 
 of the Northumbrian earldom?" 
 
 With his helmet raised, and his Norwegian mantle 
 flowing over his mail, Earl Tostig rode forth at that 
 voice, and came up to the speaker. 
 
 "What wouldst thou with me, daring foe?" 
 
 The Saxon horseman paused, and his deep voice 
 trembled tenderly, as he answered slowly: — 
 
 "Thy brother, King Harold, sends to salute thee. Let 
 not the sons from the same womb wage unnatural war 
 in the soil of their fathers." 
 
 "What will Harold the king give to his brother?" 
 answered Tostig. "Northumbria already he hath be- 
 stowed on the son of his house's foe." 
 
 The Saxon hesitated, and a rider by his side took up 
 the word : — 
 
 "If the Northumbrians will receive thee again, 
 Northumbria shalt thou have, and the king will bestow 
 his late earldom of Wessex on Morcar; if the Northum- 
 brians reject thee thou shalt have all the lordships which 
 King Harold hath promised to Gurth." 
 
 "This is well," answered Tostig; and he seemed to 
 pause as in doubt; when, made aware of this parley, 
 King Harold Hardrada, on his coal-black steed, with 
 his helm all shining with gold, rode from the lines, and 
 came into hearing. 
 
 "Ha!" said Tostig then, turning round, as the giant 
 form of the Norse king threw its vast shadow over the 
 ground. 
 
 103 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 "And if I take the offer, what will Harold son of 
 Godwin give to my friend and ally Hardrada of Nor- 
 way?" 
 
 The Saxon rider reared his head at these' words, and 
 gazed on the large front of Hardrada, as he answered 
 loud and distinct: — 
 
 "Seven feet of land for a grave, or, seeing that he is 
 taller than other men, as much more as his corse may 
 demand ! " 
 
 ''Then go back, and tell Harold my brother to get 
 ready for battle; for never shall the scalds and the 
 warriors of Norway say that Tostig lured their king in 
 his cause, to betray him to his foe. Here did he come, 
 and here came I, to win as the brave win, or die as the 
 brave die!" 
 
 A rider of younger and slighter form than the rest 
 here whispered the Saxon king: — 
 
 "Delay no more, or thy men's hearts will fear 
 treason." 
 
 "The tie is rent from my heart, O Haco," answered 
 the king, "and the heart flies back to our England." 
 
 He waved his hand, turned his steed, and rode off. 
 The eye of Hardrada followed the horseman. 
 
 "And who," he asked calmly, " is that man who spoke 
 so well?" 
 
 "King Harold!" answered Tostig briefly. 
 
 "How!" cried the Norseman, reddening, "how was 
 not that made known to me before? Never should he 
 have gone back — never told hereafter the doom of this 
 day!" 
 
 With all his ferocity, his envy, his grudge to Harold, 
 and his treason to England, some rude notions of honor 
 
 104 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 
 still lay confused in the breast of the Saxon; and he 
 answered stoutly: — 
 
 "Imprudent was Harold's coming, and great his 
 danger; but he came to offer me peace and dominion. 
 Had I betrayed him, I had not been his foe, but his 
 murderer!" 
 
 The Norse king smiled approvingly, and turning to 
 his chiefs, said dryly: — 
 
 "That man was shorter than some of us, but he rode 
 firm in his stirrups." 
 
 And then this extraordinary person, who united in 
 himself all the types of an age that vanished forever in 
 his grave, and who is the more interesting, as in him we 
 see the race from which the Norman sprang, began, in 
 the rich, full voice that pealed deep as an organ, to 
 chaunt his impromptu war-song. He halted in the midst, 
 and with great composure said : — 
 
 "That verse is but ill-tuned; I must try a better." 
 
 He passed his hand over his brow, mused an instant, 
 and then, with his fair face all illumined, he burst forth 
 as inspired. 
 
 This time, air, rhythm, words, all so chimed in with 
 his own enthusiasm and that of his men, that the effect 
 was inexpressible. It was, indeed, like the charm of 
 those runes which are said to have maddened the Ber- 
 serker with the frenzy of war. 
 
 Meanwhile the Saxon phalanx came on, slow and 
 firm, and in a few minutes the battle began. It com- 
 menced first with the charge of the English cavalry 
 (never numerous), led by Leofwine and Haco, but the 
 double palisade of the Norman spears formed an impass- 
 able barrier; and the horsemen, recoihng from the frieze, 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 rode round the iron circle without other damage than 
 the spear and javelin could effect. Meanwhile, King 
 Harold, who had dismounted, marched, as was his wont, 
 with the body of footmen. He kept his post in the hollow 
 of the triangular wedge, whence he could best issue his 
 orders. Avoiding the side over which Tostig presided, 
 he halted his array in full center of the enemy where 
 the Ravager of the World, streaming high above the 
 inner rampart of shields, showed the presence of the 
 giant Hardrada. 
 
 The air was now literally darkened with the flights of 
 arrows and spears; and in a war of missives the Saxons 
 were less skilled than the Norsemen. Still King Harold 
 restrained the ardor of his men, who, sore harassed by 
 the darts, yearned to close on the foe. He himself, 
 standing on a little eminence, more exposed than his 
 meanest soldier, deliberately eyed the sallies of the 
 horse, and watched the moment he foresaw, when, en- 
 couraged by his own susj>ense, and the feeble attacks 
 of the cavalry, the Norsemen would lift their spears 
 from the ground and advance themselves to the assault. 
 That moment came; unable to withhold their own fiery 
 zeal, stimulated by the tromp, and the clash, and the 
 war-hymns of their king, and his choral scalds, the 
 Norsemen broke ground and came on. 
 
 "To your axes, and charge!" cried Harold; and pass- 
 ing at once from the center to the front, he led on the 
 array. 
 
 The impetus of that artful phalanx was tremendous; 
 it pierced through the ring of the Norwegians; it clove 
 into the rampart of shields; and King Harold's battle- 
 axe was the first that shivered that wall of steel, his step 
 
 io6 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 
 the first that strode to the innermost circle that guarded 
 the Ravager of the World. 
 
 Then forth, from under the shade of that great flag, 
 came, himself also on foot, Harold Hardrada; shouting 
 and chaunting, he leaped with long strides into the thick 
 of the onslaught. He had flung away his shield, and sway- 
 ing with both hands his enormous sword, he hewed 
 down man after man, till space grew clear before him; 
 and the English, recoiling in awe before an image of 
 height and strength that seemed superhuman, left but 
 one form standing firm, and in front, to oppose his 
 way. 
 
 At that moment the whole strife seemed not to belong 
 to an age comparatively modern; it took a character 
 of remotest eld; and Thor and Odin seemed to have 
 returned to the earth. Behind this towering and Titan 
 warrior, their wild hair streaming long under their helms, 
 came his scalds, all singing their hymns, drunk with the 
 madness of battle. And the Ravager of the World tossed 
 and flapped as it followed, so that the vast raven de- 
 picted on its folds seemed horrid with life. And calm 
 and alone, his eye watchful, his axe lifted, his foot 
 ready for rush or for spring, — but firm as an oak against 
 flight, — stood the last of the Saxon Kings. 
 
 Down bounded Hardrada, and down shore his sword; 
 King Harold's shield was cloven in two, and the force 
 of the blow brought himself to his knee. But, as swift 
 as the flash of that sword, he sprang to his feet; and 
 while Hardrada still bowed his head, not recovered from 
 the force of his blow, the axe of the Saxon came so full 
 on his helmet that the giant reeled, dropped his sword, 
 and staggered back; his scalds and his chiefs rushed 
 
 107 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 around him. That gallant stand of King Harold saved 
 his English from flight; and now, as they saw him almost 
 lost in the throng, yet still cleaving his way — on, on — 
 to the raven standard, they rallied with one heart, and 
 shouting forth, "Out, out! Holy crosse!" forced their 
 way to his side, and the fight now raged hot and equal, 
 hand to hand. Meanwhile Hardrada, borne a little 
 apart, and relieved from his dinted helmet, recovered 
 the shock of the weightiest blow that had ever dimmed 
 his e3^e and numbed his hand. Tossing the helmet on 
 the ground, his bright locks glittering like sunbeams, he 
 rushed back to the melee. Again helm and mail went 
 down before him; again through the crowd he saw the 
 arm that had smitten him; again he sprang forward to 
 finish the war with a blow, — when a shaft from some 
 distant bow pierced the throat which the casque now 
 left bare ; a sound like the wail of a death-song murmured 
 brokenly from his lips, which then gushed out with 
 blood, and tossing up his arms wildly, he fell to the 
 ground, a corpse. At that sight a yell of such terror and 
 woe, and wrath all commingled, broke from the Norse- 
 men, that it hushed the very war for the moment! 
 
 "On! "cried the Saxon king, "let our earth take its 
 spoiler! On to the standard, and the day is our own!" 
 
 "On to the standard!" cried Haco, who, his horse 
 slain under him, all bloody with wounds not his own, 
 now came to the king's side. Grim and tall rose the 
 standard, and the streamer shrieked and flapped in the 
 wind as if the raven had voice, when right before Harold, 
 right between him and the banner, stood Tostig his 
 brother, known by the splendor of his mail, the gold 
 work on his mantle — known by the fierce laugh, and 
 
 1 08 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 
 defying voice, "What matters!" cried Haco; "strike, 
 O king, for thy crown!" 
 
 Harold's hand griped Haco's arm convulsively; he 
 lowered his axe, turned round, and passed shudderingly 
 away. 
 
 Both armies now paused from the attack; for both 
 were thrown into great disorder, and each gladly gave 
 respite to the other, to re-form its own shattered array. 
 
 The Norsemen were not soldiers to yield because their 
 leader was slain — rather the more resolute to fight, 
 since revenge was now added to valor; yet, but for the 
 daring and promptness with which Tostig had cut his 
 way to the standard, the day had been already decided. 
 
 During the pause, Harold, summoning Gurth, said to 
 him in great emotion, " For the sake of Nature, for the 
 love of God, go, O Gurth, — go to Tostig; urge him, now 
 Hardrada is dead, urge him to peace. All that we can 
 proffer with honor, proffer — quarter and free retreat 
 to every Norseman. Oh, save me, save us, from a 
 brother's blood!" 
 
 Gurth lifted his helmet, and kissed the mailed hand 
 that grasped his own. 
 
 "I go," said he. And so, bareheaded, and with a 
 single trumpeter, he went to the hostile lines. 
 
 Harold awaited him in great agitation ; nor could any 
 man have guessed what bitter and awful thoughts lay 
 in that heart, from which, in the way to power, tie after 
 tie had been wrenched away. He did not wait long; and 
 even before Gurth rejoined him, he knew by an unani- 
 mous shout of fury, to which the clash of countless 
 shields chimed in, that the mission had been in vain. 
 
 Tostig had refused to hear Gurth, save in presence of 
 
 109 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the Norwegian chiefs; and when the message had been 
 delivered, they all cried, "We would rather fall one 
 across the corpse of the other, than leave a field in which 
 our king was slain." 
 
 "Ye hear them," said Tostig; "as they speak, 
 speak I." 
 
 "Not mine this guilt too, O God!" said Harold, 
 solemnly hfting his hand on high. "Now, then, to 
 duty." 
 
 By this time the Norwegian reinforcements had 
 arrived from the ships, and this for a short time ren- 
 dered the conflict, that immediately ensued, uncertain 
 and critical. But Harold's generalship was now as 
 consummate as his valor had been daring. He kept his 
 men true to their irrefragable line. Even if fragments 
 splintered off, each fragment threw itself into the form 
 of the resistless wedge. One Norwegian, standing on 
 the bridge of Stamford, long guarded that pass; and no 
 less than forty Saxons are said to have perished by his 
 arm. To him the English king sent a generous pledge, 
 not only of safety for the life, but honor for the valor. 
 The viking refused to surrender, and fell at last by a 
 javelin from the hand of Haco. As if in him had been 
 embodied the unyielding war-god of the Norsemen, in 
 that death died the last hope of the vikings. They fell 
 Hterally where they stood; many, from sheer exhaustion 
 and the weight of their mail, died without a blow. And 
 in the shades of nightfall, Harold stood amidst the 
 shattered rampart of shields, his foot on the corpse 
 of the standard-bearer, his hand on the Ravager of the 
 World. 
 
 "Thy brother's corpse is borne yonder," said Haco 
 no 
 
THE LAST DANISH IN\^ASION 
 
 in the ear of the king, as, wiping the blood from his 
 sword, he plunged it back into the sheath. 
 
 Young Olave, the son of Hardrada, had happily 
 escaped the slaughter. A strong detachment of the 
 Norwegians had still remained with the vessels; and 
 amongst them some prudent old chiefs, who, foresee- 
 ing the probable results of the day, and knowing that 
 Hardrada would never quit, save as a conqueror or a 
 corpse, the field on which he had planted the Ravager 
 of the World, had detained the prince almost by force 
 from sharing the fate of his father. But ere those ves- 
 sels could put out to sea, the vigorous measures of the 
 Saxon king had already intercepted the retreat of the 
 vessels. And then, ranging their shields as a wall round 
 their masts, the bold vikings at least determined to die 
 as men. But with the morning came King Harold him- 
 self to the banks of the river, and behind him, with 
 trailed lances, a solemn procession that bore the body of 
 the scald king. They halted on the margin, and a boat 
 was launched towards the Norwegian fleet, bearing a 
 monk who demanded the chiefs to send a deputation, 
 headed by the young prince himself, to receive the corpse 
 of their king, and hear the proposals of the Saxon. 
 
 The vikings, who had anticipated no preliminaries to 
 the massacre they awaited, did not hesitate to accept 
 these overtures. Twelve of the most famous chiefs still 
 surviving, and Olave himself, entered the boat; and, 
 standing between his brothers Leofwine and Gurth, 
 Harold thus accosted them : — 
 
 "Your king invaded a people that had given him no 
 offense: he has paid the forfeit — we war not with the 
 dead! Give to his remains the honors due to the brave. 
 
 Ill 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Without ransom or condition, we yield to you what can 
 no longer harm us. And for thee, young prince," con- 
 tinued the king, with a tone of pity in his voice, as he 
 contemplated the stately boyhood and proud but deep 
 grief in the face of Olave, "for thee, wilt thou not live 
 to learn that the wars of Odin are treason to the Faith of 
 the Cross? We have conquered — we dare not butcher. 
 Take such ships as ye need for those that survive. 
 Three-and-twenty I offer for your transport. Return to 
 your native shores, and guard them as we have guarded 
 ours. Are ye contented?" 
 
 Amongst those chiefs was a stern priest — the Bishop 
 of the Orcades; he advanced, and bent his knee to the 
 king. 
 
 "O Lord of England," said he, "yesterday thou didst 
 conquer the form — to-day, the soul. And never more 
 may generous Norsemen invade the coast of him who 
 honors the dead and spares the living." 
 
 "Amen!" cried the chiefs, and they all knelt to Har- 
 old. The young prince stood a moment irresolute, for 
 his dead father was on the bier before him, and revenge 
 was yet a virtue in the heart of a sea-king. But lifting 
 his eyes to Harold's, the mild and gentle majesty of the 
 Saxon's brow was irresistible in its benign command ; 
 and stretching his right hand to the king, he raised on 
 high the other, and said aloud, "Faith and friendship 
 with thee and England evermore." 
 
 Then all the chiefs rising, they gathered round the 
 bier, but no hand, in the sight of the conquering foe, 
 lifted the cloth of gold that covered the corpse of the 
 famous king. The bearers of the bier moved on slowly 
 towards the boat; the Norwegians followed with meas- 
 
 112 
 
THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
 
 ured funereal steps, and not till the bier was placed on 
 board the royal galley was there heard the wail of woe; 
 but then it came loud, and deep, and dismal, and was 
 followed by a burst of wild song from a surviving scald. 
 
 The Norwegian preparations for departure were soon 
 made, and the ships vouchsafed to their convoy raised 
 anchor, and sailed down the stream. Harold's eye 
 watched the ships from the river banks. 
 
 ''And there," said he at last, " there glide the last sails 
 that shall ever bear the devastating raven to the shores 
 of England." 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 [1066] 
 
 BY ROBERT WAGE 
 
 The English had built up a fence before them with their 
 shields, and with ash and other wood; and had well 
 joined and wattled in the whole work, so as not to leave 
 even a crevice; and thus they had a barricade in their 
 front, through which any Norman who would attack 
 them must first pass. Being covered in this way by their 
 shields and barricades, their aim was to defend them- 
 selves : and if they had remained steady for that purpose, 
 they would not have been conquered that day; for every 
 Norman who made his way in, lost his life, either by 
 hatchet or bill, by club, or other weapon. They wore 
 short and close hauberks, and helmets that hung over 
 their garments. King Harold issued orders and made 
 proclamation round, that all should be ranged with their 
 faces towards the enemy; and that no one should move 
 from where he was; so that, whoever came might find 
 them ready; and that whatever any one, be he Norman 
 or other, should do, each should do his best to defend his 
 own place. Then he ordered the men of Kent to go 
 where the Normans were likely to make the attack ; for 
 they say that the men of Kent are entitled to strike first; 
 and that whenever the king goes to battle, the first blow 
 belongs to them. The right of the men of London is to 
 guard the king's body, to place themselves around him, 
 
 114 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 and to guard his standard; and they were accordingly 
 placed by the standard to watch and defend it. 
 
 When Harold had made his reply, and given his or- 
 ders, he came into the midst of the English, and dis- 
 mounted by the side of the standard. Leofwine and 
 Gurth, his brothers, were with him, and around him he 
 had barons enough, as he stood by his standard, which 
 was in truth a noble one, sparkUng with gold and pre- 
 cious stones. After the victory, William sent it to the 
 Pope, to prove and commemorate his great conquest 
 and glory. The English stood in close ranks, ready and 
 eager for the fight; and they moreover made a fosse, 
 which went across the field, guarding one side of their 
 army. 
 
 Meanwhile the Normans appeared advancing over 
 the ridge of a rising ground ; and the first division of their 
 troops moved onwards along the hill and across a valley. 
 And presently another division, still larger, came in 
 sight, close following upon the first, and they were led 
 towards another part of the field, forming together as the 
 first body had done. And while Harold saw and exam- 
 ined them, and was pointing them out to Gurth, a fresh 
 company came in sight, covering all the plain; and in the 
 midst of them was raised the standard that came from 
 Rome. Near it was the duke, and the best men and 
 greatest strength of the army were there. The good 
 knights, the good vassals, and brave warriors were 
 there; and there were gathered together the gentle 
 barons, the good archers, and the men-at-arms, whose 
 duty it was to guard the duke, and range themselves 
 around him. The youths and common herd of the camp, 
 whose business was not to join in the battle, but to take 
 
 115 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 care of the harness and stores, moved off towards a rising 
 ground. The priests and the clerks also ascended a hill, 
 there to offer up prayers to God, and watch the event 
 of the battle. 
 
 The English stood firm on foot in close ranks, and 
 carried themselves right boldly. Each man had his 
 hauberk on, with his sword girt, and his shield at his 
 neck. Great hatchets were also slung at their necks, with 
 which they expected to strike heavy blows. 
 
 The Normans brought on the three divisions of their 
 army to attack at different places. They set out in three 
 companies, and in three companies did they fight. The 
 first and second had come up, and then advanced the 
 third, which was the greatest; with that came the duke 
 with his own men, and all moved boldly forward. 
 
 As soon as the two armies were in full view of each 
 other, great noise and tumult arose. You might hear the 
 sound of many trumpets, of bugles, and of horns: and 
 then you might see men ranging themselves in line, lift- 
 ing their shields, raising their lances, bending their bows, 
 handling their arrows, ready for assault and defense. 
 
 The English stood steady to their post, the Normans 
 still moved on; and when they drew near, the English 
 v;ere to be seen stirring to and fro ; were going and com- 
 ing; troops ranging themselves in order; some with their 
 color rising, others turning pale; some making ready 
 their arms; others raising their shields; the brave man 
 rousing himself to fight, the coward trembling at the 
 approach of danger. 
 
 Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode mounted on 
 a swift horse, before the duke, singing of Charlemagne, 
 and of Roland, of OHvier, and the Peers who died in 
 
 ii6 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 Roncesvalles. And when they drew nigh to the English, 
 "A boon, sire!" cried Taillefer; "I have long served 
 you, and you owe me for all such service. To-day, so 
 please you, you shall repay it. I ask as my guerdon and 
 beseech you for it earnestly, that you will allow me to 
 strike the first blow in the battle!" And the duke 
 answered, " I grant it." Then Taillefer put his horse to a 
 gallop, charging before all the rest, and struck an Eng- 
 lishman dead, driving his lance below the breast into his 
 body, and stretching him upon the ground. Then he 
 drew his sword, and struck another, crying out, " Come 
 on, come on! What do ye, sirs? lay on, lay on!" At the 
 second blow he struck, the English pushed forward, and 
 surrounded and slew him. Forthwith arose the noise 
 and cry of war, and on either side the people put them- 
 selves in motion. 
 
 The Normans moved on to the assault, and the Eng- 
 lish defended themselves well. Some were striking, 
 others urging onwards; all were bold, and cast aside fear. 
 And now, behold, that battle was gathered, whereof the 
 fame is yet mighty. 
 
 Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns ; and the 
 shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of maces, and 
 the quick clashing of swords. One while the Englishmen 
 rushed on, another while they fell back; one while the 
 men from oversea charged onwards, and again at other 
 times retreated. The Normans shouted "Dex aie," the 
 English people "Out." Then came the cunning maneu- 
 vers, the rude shocks and strokes of the lances and blows 
 of the swords, among the sergeants and soldiers, both 
 English and Norman. 
 
 When the English fall, the Normans shout. Each side 
 117 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 taunts and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what 
 the other saith; and the Normans say the English bark, 
 because they understand not their speech. 
 
 Some wax strong, others weak: the brave exult, but 
 the cowards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. 
 The Normans press on the assault, and the English 
 defend their post well: they pierce the hauberks, and 
 cleave the shields, receive and return mighty blows. 
 Again, some press forwards; others yield, and thus in 
 various ways the struggle proceeds. In the plain was a 
 fosse, which the Normans had now behind them, hav- 
 ing passed it in the fight without regarding it. But the 
 English charged and drove the Normans before them 
 till they made them fall back upon this fosse, overthrow- 
 ing into it horses and men. Many were to be seen fall- 
 ing therein, rolling one over the other, with their faces to 
 the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English, also, 
 whom the Normans drew down along with them, died 
 there. At no time during the day's battle did so many 
 Normans die as perished in that fosse. So those said 
 who saw the dead. 
 
 The varlets who were set to guard the harness began 
 to abandon it as they saw the loss of the Frenchmen, 
 when thrown back upon the fosse without power to 
 recover themselves. Being greatly alarmed at seeing the 
 difiiculty in restoring order, they began to quit the har- 
 ness, and sought around, not knowing where to find 
 shelter. Then Duke William's brother, Odo, the good 
 priest, the bishop of Bayeux, galloped up, and said to 
 them, "Stand fast! stand fast! be quiet and move not! 
 fear nothing, for if God please, we shall conquer yet." 
 So they took courage, and rested where they were; and 
 
 ii8 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 Odo returned galloping back to where the battle was 
 most fierce, and was of great service on that day. He 
 had put a hauberk on, over a white aube; wide in the 
 body, with the sleeve tight ; and sat on a white horse, so 
 that all might recognize him. In his hand he held a 
 mace, and wherever he saw most need he held up and 
 stationed the knights, and often urged them on to assault 
 and strike the enemy. 
 
 From nine o'clock in the morning, when the combat 
 began, till three o'clock came, the battle was up and 
 down, this way and that, and no one knew who would 
 conquer and win the land. Both sides stood so firm and 
 fought so well, that no one could guess which would 
 prevail. The Norman archers with their bows shot 
 thickly upon the English ; but they covered themselves 
 with their shields, so that the arrows could not reach 
 their bodies, nor do any mischief, how true soever was 
 their aim, or however well they shot. Then the Normans 
 determined to shoot their arrov/s upwards into the air, 
 so that they might fall on their enemies' heads, and 
 strike their faces. The archers adopted this scheme, and 
 shot up into the air towards the English; and the arrows 
 in falling struck their heads and faces, and put out the 
 eyes of many; and all feared to open their eyes, or leave 
 their faces unguarded. 
 
 The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the 
 wind; fast sped the shafts that the English called 
 "wibetes." Then it was that an arrow, that had thus 
 been shot upwards, struck Harold above his right eye, 
 and put it out. In his agony he drew the arrow and 
 threw it away, breaking it with his hands: and the pain 
 to his head was so great, that he leaned upon his shield. 
 
 119 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 So the English were wont to say, and still say to the 
 French, that the arrow was well shot which was so sent 
 up against their king; and that the archer won them great 
 glory, who thus put out Harold's eye. 
 
 The Normans saw that the English defended them- 
 selves well, and were so strong in their position that they 
 could do little against them. So they consulted together 
 privily, and arranged to draw off, and pretend to flee, 
 till the English should pursue and scatter themselves 
 over the field; for they saw that if they could once get 
 their enemies to break their ranks, they might be at- 
 tacked and discomfited much more easily. As they had 
 said, so they did. The Normans by little and little fled, 
 the English following them. As the one fell back, the 
 other pressed after; and when the Frenchmen retreated, 
 the English thought and cried out, that the men of 
 France fled, and would never return. 
 
 Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight, and 
 great mischief thereby befell them; for if they had not 
 moved from their position, it is not likely that they 
 would have been conquered at all; but like fools they 
 broke their lines and pursued. 
 
 The Normans were to be seen following up their 
 stratagem, retreating slowly so as to draw the English 
 further on. As they still flee, the English pursue; they 
 push out their lances and stretch forth their hatchets: 
 following the Normans, as they go rejoicing in the suc- 
 cess of their scheme, and scattering themselves over the 
 plain. And the English meantime jeered and insulted 
 their foes with words. "Cowards," they cried, "you 
 came hither in an evil hour, wanting our lands, and seek- 
 ing to seize our property, fools that ye were to come! 
 
 I20 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 Normandy is too far off, and you will not easily reach it. 
 It is of little use to run back; unless you can cross the sea 
 at a leap, or can drink it dry, your sons and daughters 
 are lost to you." 
 
 The Normans bore it all, but in fact they knew not 
 what the English said; their language seemed like the 
 baying of dogs, which they could not understand. At 
 length they stopped and turned round, determined to 
 recover their ranks; and the barons might be heard 
 crying "Dex aie!" for a halt. Then the Normans 
 resumed their former position, turning their faces to- 
 wards the enemy; and their men were to be seen facing 
 round and rushing onwards to a fresh melee; the one 
 party assaulting the other; this man striking, another 
 pressing onwards. One hits, another misses; one flies, an- 
 other pursues : one is aiming a stroke, while another dis- 
 charges his blow. Norman strives with Englishman 
 again, and aims his blows afresh. One flies, another pur- 
 sues swiftly: the combatants are many, the plain wide, 
 the battle and the meUe fierce. On every hand they fight 
 hard, the blows are heavy, and the struggle becomes 
 fierce. 
 
 The Normans were playing their part well, when 
 an English knight came rushing up, having in his com- 
 pany a hundred men, furnished with various arms. He 
 wielded a northern hatchet, with the blade a full foot 
 long; and was well armed after his manner, being tall, 
 bold, and of noble carriage. In the front of the battle 
 where the Normans thronged most, he came bounding 
 on swifter than the stag, many Normans falling before 
 him and his company. He rushed straight upon a Nor- 
 man who was armed and riding on a war-horse, and 
 
 121 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 tried with his hatchet of steel to cleave his helmet; but 
 the blow miscarried, and the sharp blade glanced down 
 before the saddle-bow, driving through the horse's neck 
 down to the ground, so that both horse and master fell 
 together to the earth. I know not whether the Enghsh- 
 man struck another blow; but the Normans who saw 
 the stroke were astonished, and about to abandon the 
 assault, when Roger de Montgomeri came galloping up, 
 with his lance set, and heeding not the long-handled axe, 
 which the Englishman wielded aloft, struck him down, 
 and left him stretched upon the ground. Then Roger 
 cried out, "Frenchmen, strike! the day is ours!" And 
 again a fierce melee was to be seen, with many a blow of 
 lance and sword; the English still defending themselves, 
 killing the horses and clea\ang the shields. 
 
 There was a French soldier of noble mien, who sat his 
 horse gallantly. He spied two Englishmen who were 
 also carrying themselves boldly. They were both men 
 of great worth, and had become companions in arms and 
 fought together, the one protecting the other. They bore 
 two long and broad bills, and did great mischief to the 
 Normans, killing both horses and men. The French 
 soldier looked at them and their bills, and was sore 
 alarmed, for he was afraid of losing his good horse, the 
 best that he had; and would willingly have turned to 
 some other quarter, if it would not have looked like 
 cowardice. He soon, however, recovered his courage, 
 and spurring his horse gave him the bridle, and galloped 
 swiftly forward. Fearing the two bills, he raised his 
 shield, and struck one of the Englishmen with his lance 
 on the breast, so that the iron passed out at his back. At 
 the moment that he fell, the lance broke, and the 
 
 122 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 Frenchman seized the mace that hung at his right side, 
 and struck the other Englishman a blow that com- 
 pletely broke his skull. 
 
 On the other side was an Englishman who much 
 annoyed the French, continually assaulting them with 
 a keen-edged hatchet. He had a helmet made of wood, 
 which he had fastened down to his coat, and laced round 
 his neck, so that no blows could reach his head. The 
 ravage he was making was seen by a gallant Norman 
 knight, who rode a horse that neither lire nor water 
 could stop in its career, when its master urged it on. 
 The knight spurred, and his horse carried him on well 
 till he charged the Englishman, striking him over the 
 helmet, so that it fell down ovev his eyes; and as he 
 stretched out his hand to raise it and uncover the face, 
 the Norman cut off his right hand, so that his hatchet 
 fell to the ground. Another Norman sprang forward and 
 eagerly seized the prize with both his hands, but he kept 
 it little space, and paid dearly for it, for as he stooped 
 to pick up the hatchet, an Englishman with his long- 
 handled axe struck him over the back, breaking all his 
 bones, so that his entrails and lungs gushed forth. The 
 knight of the good horse meantime returned without 
 injury; but on his way he met another Englishman, and 
 bore him down under his horse, wounding him griev- 
 ously, and trampling him altogether under foot. 
 
 And now might be heard the loud clang and cry of 
 battle, and the clashing of lances. The English stood 
 firm in their barricades, and shivered the lances, beat- 
 ing them into pieces with their bills and maces. The 
 Normans drew their swords, and hewed down the barri- 
 cades, and the English in great trouble fell back upon 
 
 123 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 their standard, where were collected the maimed and 
 wounded. 
 
 There were many knights of Chauz, who jousted and 
 made attacks. The English knew not how to joust, or 
 bear arms on horseback, but fought with hatchets and 
 bills. A man, when he wanted to strike with one of their 
 hatchets, was obliged to hold it with both his hands, 
 and could not at the same time, as it seems to me, both 
 cover himself and strike with any freedom. 
 
 The English fell back towards the standard which 
 was upon a rising ground, and the Normans followed 
 them across the valley, attacking them on foot and 
 horseback. Then Hue de Mortemer, with the sires 
 D'Auviler, D'Onebac, and St. Cler, rode up and charged, 
 overthrowing many. 
 
 Robert Fitz Erneis fixed his lance, took his shield, 
 and, galloping towards the standard, with his keen- 
 edged sword struck an Englishman who was in front, 
 killed him, and then drawing back his sword, attacked 
 many others, and pushed straight for the standard, 
 tr}dng to beat it down, but the English surrounded it, 
 and killed him with their bills. He was found on the 
 spot, when they afterwards sought for him, dead, and 
 lying at the standard's foot. 
 
 Duke WilHam pressed close upon the English with 
 his lance; striving hard to reach the standard with the 
 great troop he led; and seeking earnestly for Harold, on 
 whose account the whole war was. The Normans follow 
 their lord, and press around him; they ply their blows 
 upon the English ; and these defend themselves stoutly, 
 striving hard with their enemies, returning blow for 
 blow. 
 
 124 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, 
 who did great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet; 
 all feared him, for he struck down a great many Normans. 
 The duke spurred on his horse, and aimed a blow at 
 him, but he stooped, and so escaped the stroke; then 
 jumping on one side, he lifted his hatchet aloft, and as 
 the duke bent to avoid the blow, the Englishman boldly 
 struck him on the head, and beat in his helmet, though 
 without doing much injury. He was very near falling, 
 however, but bearing on his stirrups he recovered him- 
 self immediately; and when he thought to have re- 
 venged himself upon the churl by killing him, he had 
 escaped, dreading the duke's blow. He ran back in 
 among the English, but he was not safe even there; for 
 the Normans seeing him, pursued and caught him; and 
 having pierced him through and through with their 
 lances, left him dead on the ground. 
 
 Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the men 
 of Kent and Essex fought wondrously well, and made 
 the Normans again retreat, but without doing them 
 much injury. And when the duke saw his men fall back, 
 and the English triumphing over them, his spirit rose 
 high, and he seized his shield and his lance, which a 
 vassal handed to him, and took his post by his standard. 
 
 Then those who kept close guard by him and rode 
 where he rode, being about a thousand armed men, 
 came and rushed with closed ranks upon the English; 
 and with the weight of their good horses, and the blows 
 the knights gave, broke the press of the enemy, and 
 scattered the crowd before them, the good duke leading 
 them on in front. Many pursued and many fled ; many 
 were the Englishmen who fell around, and were tram- 
 
 125 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 pled under the horses, crawling upon the earth, and not 
 able to rise. Many of the richest and noblest men fell 
 in that rout, but the English still rallied in places; smote 
 down those whom they reached, and maintained the 
 combat the best they could ; beating dov/n the men and 
 killing the horses. One Englishman watched the duke, 
 and plotted to kill him ; he would have struck him with 
 his lance, but he could not, for the duke struck him first, 
 and felled him to the earth. 
 
 Loud was now the clamor, and great the slaughter; 
 many a soul then quitted the body it inhabited. The 
 living marched over the heaps of dead, and each side 
 was weary of striking. He charged on who could, and he 
 who could no longer strike still pushed forward. The 
 strong struggled with the strong; some failed, others 
 triumphed ; the cowards fell back, the brave pressed on ; 
 and sad was his fate who fell in the midst, for he had 
 little chance of rising again; and many in truth fell, who 
 never rose at all, being crushed under the throng. 
 
 And now the Normans pressed on so far, that at last 
 they had reached the standard. There Harold had re- 
 mained, defending himself to the utmost; but he was 
 sorely woimded in his eye by the arrow, and suffered 
 grievous pain from the blow. An armed man came in 
 the throng of the battle, and struck him on the ventaille 
 of his helmet, and beat him to the ground ; and as he 
 sought to recover himself, a knight beat him down 
 again, striking him on the thick of his thigh, down to 
 the bone. 
 
 Gurth saw the English falling around, and that there 
 w^s no remedy. He saw his race hastening to ruin, and 
 despaired of any aid; he would have fled, but could not, 
 
 126 
 
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 
 
 for the throng continually increased. And the duke 
 pushed on till he reached him, and struck him with great 
 force. Whether he died of that blow I know not, but it 
 was said that he fell imder it, and rose no more. 
 
 The standard was beaten down, the golden standard 
 was taken, and Harold and the best of his friends were 
 slain; but there was so much eagerness, and throng of 
 so many around, seeking to kill him, that I know not 
 who it was that slew him. 
 
 The English were in great trouble at having lost their 
 king, and at the duke's having conquered and beat 
 down the standard; but they still fought on, and de- 
 fended themselves long, and in fact till the day drew to 
 a close. Then it clearly appeared to all that the standard 
 was lost, and the news had spread throughout the army 
 that Harold for certain was dead ; and all saw that there 
 was no longer any hope, so they left the field, and those 
 fled who could. 
 
THE BATTLE OF CRECY 
 
 [1346] 
 
 BY SIR JOHN FROISSART 
 
 The English, who were drawn up in three divisions and 
 seated on the ground, on seeing their enemies advance, 
 rose undauntedly up and fell into their ranks. That of 
 the prince was the first to do so, whose archers were 
 formed in the manner of a portculhs or harrow, and the 
 men-at-arms in the rear. The earls of Northampton 
 and Arundel, who commanded the second division, had 
 posted themselves in good order on his wing, to assist 
 and succor the prince if necessary. 
 
 You must know that these kings, earls, barons, and 
 lords of France did not advance in any regular order, but 
 one after the other, or any way most pleasing to them- 
 selves. As soon as the King of France came in sight of 
 the English, his blood began to boil, and he cried out to 
 his marshals, " Order the Genoese forward and begin 
 the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis." There 
 were about fifteen thousand Genoese crossbowmen; but 
 they were quite fatigued, having marched on foot that 
 day six leagues, completely armed, and with their cross- 
 bows. They told the constable they were not in a fit 
 condition to do any great things that day in battle. The 
 Earl of Alengon, hearing this, said, "This is what one 
 gets by employing such scoundrels, who fall off when 
 there is any need for them." During this time a heavy 
 rain fell, accompanied by thunder and a very terrible 
 
 128 
 
THE BATTLE OF CRECY 
 
 eclipse of the sun; and before this rain a great flight of 
 crows hovered in the air over all those battalions, mak- 
 ing a loud noise. Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and 
 the sun shone very bright; but the Frenchmen had it in 
 their faces, and the English in their backs. When the 
 Genoese were somewhat in order, and approached the 
 English, they set up a loud shout, in order to frighten 
 them; but they remained quite still, and did not seem to 
 attend to it. They then set up a second shout, and ad- 
 vanced a little forward; but the English never moved. 
 
 They hooted a third time, advancing with their cross- 
 bows presented, and began to shoot. The English arch- 
 ers then advanced one step forward, and shot their 
 arrows with such force and quickness that it seemed 
 as if it snowed. When the Genoese felt these arrows, 
 which pierced their arms, heads, and through their 
 armor, some of them cut the strings of their crossbows, 
 others flung them on the ground, and all turned about 
 and retreated quite discomfited. The French had a fine 
 body of men-at-arms on horseback, richly dressed, to 
 support the Genoese. The King of France, seeing them 
 thus fall back, cried out, " Kill me those scoundrels; for 
 they stop up our road without any reason." You would 
 then have seen the above-mentioned men-at-arms lay 
 about them, killing all they could of these runaways. 
 
 The English continued shooting as vigorously and 
 quickly as before; some of their arrows fell among the 
 horsemen, who were sumptuously equipped, and, killing 
 and wounding many, made them caper and fall among 
 the Genoese so that they were in such confusion they 
 could never rally again. In the English army there 
 were some Cornish and Welsh men on foot, who had 
 
 129 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 anned themselves with large knives: these advancing 
 through the ranks of the men-at-arms and archers, who 
 made way for them, came upon the French when they 
 were in this danger, and falling upon earls, barons, 
 knights, and squires slew many, at which the King of 
 England was afterwards much exasperated. 
 
 The valiant King of Bohemia was slain there. He was 
 called Charles of Luxembourg; for he was the son of the 
 gallant king and Emperor, Hem^ of Luxembourg: hav- 
 ing heard the order of the battle, he inquired where his 
 son, the Lord Charles, was: his attendants answered that 
 they did not know, but believed he was fighting. The 
 king said to them: " Gentlemen, you are all my people, 
 my friends and brethren at arms this day : therefore, as I 
 am blind, I request of you to lead me so far into the en- 
 gagement that I may strike one stroke with my sword." 
 The knights replied, they would lead him forward; and 
 in order that they might not lose him in the crowd, they 
 fastened all the reins of their horses together, and put 
 the king at their head, that he might gratify his wish, 
 and advanced toward the enemy. The Lord Charles of 
 Bohemia, who already signed his name as King of Ger- 
 many and bore the arms, had come in good order to the 
 engagement; but when he perceived that it was likely to 
 turn out against the French, he departed, and I do not 
 well know what road he took. The king, his father, had 
 ridden in among the enemy, and made good use of his 
 sword; for he and his companions had fought most 
 gallantly. They had advanced so far that they were all 
 slain ; and on the morrow they were found on the ground 
 with their horses all tied together. 
 
 The E^rl of Alengon advanced in regular order upon 
 
THE BATTLE OF CRfiCY 
 
 the English, to fight with them; as did the Earl of Flan- 
 ders, in another part. These two lords with their de- 
 tachments coasting, as it were, the archers, came to the 
 prince's battalion, where they fought vahantly for a 
 length of time. The King of France was eager to march 
 to the place where he saw their banners displayed, but 
 there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that 
 day made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir 
 John of Hainault, who had mounted on it a knight of his, 
 called Sir John de Fusselles, that bore his banner: which 
 horse ran away with him, and forced his way through 
 the English army and, when about to return, stumbled 
 and fell into a ditch and severely wounded him: he 
 would have been dead if his page had not followed him 
 round the battalions, and found him unable to rise: he 
 had not, however, any other hindrance than from his 
 horse; for the English did not quit the ranks that day 
 to make prisoners. The page alighted, and raised him 
 up; but he did not return the way he came, as he would 
 have found it difiicult from the crowd. This battle, 
 which was fought on the Saturday between La Broyes 
 and Crecy, was very murderous and cruel; and many 
 gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never 
 known. Toward evening, many knights and squires of 
 the French had lost their masters: they wandered up 
 and down the plain, attacking the EngHsh in small par- 
 ties: they WTre soon destroyed; for the English had de- 
 termined that day to give no quarter or hear of ransom 
 from any one. 
 
 Early in the day, some French, Germans, and Savoy- 
 ards had broken through the archers of the prince's 
 battahon, and had engaged with the men-at-arms; upon 
 
 131 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 vvliich the second battalion came to his aid, and it was 
 time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. 
 The first division, seeing the danger they were in, sent 
 a knight in great haste to the King of England, who was 
 posted upon an eminence near a windmill. On the 
 knight's arrival, he said, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick, the 
 Lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about 
 your son are vigorously attacked by the French; and they 
 entreat that you would come to their assistance with 
 your battalion, for, if their numbers should increase, they 
 fear he will have too much to do." The king replied, "Is 
 my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he 
 cannot support himself?" "Nothing of the sort, thank 
 God," rejoined the knight; "but he is in so hot an en- 
 gagement that he has great need of your help." The 
 king answered, "Now, Sir Thomas, return back to those 
 that sent you, and tell them from me not to send again 
 for me this day or expect that I shall come, let what will 
 happen, as long as my son has life; and say that I com- 
 mand them to let the boy win his spurs, for I am deter- 
 mined, if it please God, that all the glory and honor of 
 this day shall be given to him and to those into whose 
 care I have entrusted him." The knight returned to his 
 lords and related the king's answer, which mightily en- 
 couraged them, and made them repent they had ever 
 sent such a message. . . . 
 
 When, on the Saturday night, the English heard no 
 more hooting or shouting, nor any more crying out to 
 particular lords or their banners, they looked upon the 
 field as their own, and their enemies as beaten. They 
 made great fires and lighted torches because of the 
 obscurity of the night. King Edward then came down 
 
THE BATTLE OF CRECY 
 
 from his post, who all that day had not put on his hel~ 
 met, and with his whole battalion advanced to the Prince 
 of Wales, whom he embraced in his arms and kissed, and 
 said," Sweet son, God give you good perseverance: you 
 are my son, for most loyally have you acquitted yourself 
 this day: you are worthy to be a sovereign." The prince 
 bowed down very low, and humbled himself, giving all 
 the honor to the king his father. 
 
THE DEATH OF WINKELRIED 
 
 [1386] 
 
 BY WALTER THORNBURY 
 
 [In the fourteenth century a number of the districts of 
 Switzerland joined together for defense against the Haps- 
 burg rulers of Austria. The power of the league grew rapidly ; 
 and the determination of Austria to crush these rebellious 
 peasants increased no less rapidly. In 1386 came the battle 
 of Sempach, The Swiss with their wooden bucklers were at 
 first helpless to make any break in the Austrian wall of 
 bristling spears; but in the end they triumphed and drove 
 the Austrians from the field. According to tradition, it was 
 the devotion of Arnold von Winkelried that opened the way 
 to victory. 
 
 The Editor] 
 
 In July, when the bees swarmed thick upon the linden 
 tops, 
 
 And farmers gazed with pride and joy upon their ripen- 
 ing crops, 
 
 The watchmen on our tall church towers, looking to- 
 wards Willisow, 
 
 Saw the stacked barley in a flame and the wheat-fields 
 in a glow. 
 
 For Archduke Leopold had come from Zurich by the 
 
 lake, 
 With lance, and bow, and banner spread, a dire revenge 
 
 to take. 
 
 134 
 
THE DEATH OF WINKELRIED 
 
 On Monday morning, when the dew lay bright upon the 
 
 corn, 
 Each man of Sempach blew alarm upon his mountain 
 
 horn. 
 
 The young and old from fair Lucerne gathered to bar 
 
 the way, 
 The reapers threw their sickles down, and ran to join 
 
 the fray: 
 We knelt and prayed to heaven for strength, crying tO' 
 
 God aloud; 
 And lo ! a rainbow rising shone against a thunder-cloud. 
 
 Burghers of Berne, the lads of Schweitz, and Unter- 
 
 walden's best. 
 Warriors of Uri, strong as bulls, were there among the 
 
 rest; 
 The oldest of our mountain priests had come to fight, — 
 
 not pray. 
 Our women only kept at home upon that battle-day. 
 
 The shepherds, sturdy wrestlers with the grim moun- 
 tain bear, 
 
 The chamois hunters, lithe and swift, mingle together 
 there; 
 
 Rough boatmen from the mountain lakes, and fisher- 
 men by scores; 
 
 The children only had been left to guard the nets and oars.. 
 
 The herdsmen joined us from their huts on the far 
 
 mountain-side, 
 Where cow-bells chimed among the pines, and far above 
 
 in pride 
 
 135 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 The granite peaks rose soaring up in snowy pinnacles, 
 Past glaciers' ever-gaping jaws and vultures' citadels. 
 
 The citizens of Zurich town under their banners stood, 
 
 Their burly lances bleak and bare as any winter wood ; 
 
 Geneva sent her archers stout, and swordsmen not a 
 few, 
 
 And over the brave men of Berne their great to^n ban- 
 ner blew. 
 
 How fierce we ran with partisan and axe and spear and 
 
 sword. 
 With flail and club and shrieking horns, upon that 
 
 Austrian horde! 
 But they stood silent in the sun, mocking the Switzer 
 
 bear, 
 Their helmets crested, beaked, and fanged, like the 
 
 wild beasts they were. 
 
 Like miners digging iron ore from some great mountain 
 
 heart, 
 We strove to hew and rend and cleave that hill of steel 
 
 apart; 
 But clamped like statues stood the knights in their 
 
 spiked phalanx strong. 
 Though our Swiss halberds and our swords hewed 
 
 fiercely at the throng. 
 
 Hot, sharp, and thick our arrows fell upon their helmet 
 
 crests, 
 Keen on their visors' glaring bars, and sharp upon their 
 
 breasts; 
 
 136 
 
THE DEATH OF WINKELRIED 
 
 Fierce plied our halberds at the spears, that thicker 
 
 seemed to grow: 
 The more we struck, more boastfully the banners 
 
 seemed to blow. 
 
 The Austrians, square and close locked up, stood firm 
 
 with threatening spears. 
 Only the sterner when our bolts flew thick about their 
 
 ears; 
 Our drifts of arrows blinding fell, and nailed the mail 
 
 to breast. 
 But e'en the dead men as they dropped were ramparts 
 
 to the rest. 
 
 With furnace heat the red sun shone upon that wall of 
 
 steel. 
 And crimsoned every Austrian knight from helmet unto 
 
 heel. 
 They slew their horses where they stood, and shortened 
 
 all their spears, 
 Then back to back, like boars at bay, they mocked our 
 
 angry cheers. 
 
 Till Winkelried stepped forth, and said, knitting his 
 
 rugged brow, 
 "Out on ye, men of Zurich town! go back and tend your 
 
 plough; 
 Sluggards of Berne, go hunt and fish, when danger is 
 
 not nigh ; 
 See now how Unterwalden taught her hardy sons to 
 
 die!" 
 
 ,137 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Then out he rushed with head bent low; his body, 
 breast, and hands 
 
 Bore down a sheaf of spears, and made a pathway for 
 our bands. 
 
 Four lances splintered on his brow, six shivered in his 
 side, 
 
 But still he struggled fiercely on, and, shouting "Vic- 
 tory!" died. 
 
 Then on that broken, flying rout, we Swiss, rejoicing, 
 
 rushed, 
 With sword and mace and partisan that struck and 
 
 stabbed and crushed; 
 Their banners beaten to the earth, and all their best 
 
 men slain, 
 The Austrians threw away their shields and fled across 
 
 the plain. 
 
 And thus our Switzerland was saved, upon that sum- 
 mer's day, 
 
 And Sempach saw rejoicing men returning from the 
 fray. 
 
 As we bore home brave Winkelried a rainbow spanned 
 our track. 
 
 But where the Austrian rabble fled a thunder-storm 
 rolled black. 
 
THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT 
 
 [1415] 
 
 BY MICHAEL DRAYTON 
 
 Fair stood the wind for France, 
 When we our sails advance, 
 Nor now to prove our chance 
 
 Longer will tarry. 
 But putting to the main, 
 At Caux, the mouth of Seine, 
 With all his martial train, 
 
 Landed King Harry. 
 
 And taking many a fort. 
 Furnished in warlike sort, 
 Marcheth towards Agincourt, 
 
 In happy hour; 
 Skirmishing day by day 
 With those that stopped his way, 
 Where the French general lay 
 
 With all his power. 
 
 Which in his height of pride, 
 King Henry to deride, 
 His ransom to provide 
 
 To the king sending; 
 Which he neglects the while. 
 As from a nation vile, 
 Yet with an angry smile 
 
 Their fall portending; 
 
 139 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 And turning to his men, 
 Quoth our brave Harry then, 
 "Though they be one to ten, 
 
 Be not amazed; 
 Yet have we well begun, 
 Battles so bravely won 
 Have ever to the sun 
 
 By fame been raised. 
 
 "And for myself," quoth he, ^ 
 " This my full rest shall be, 
 England ne'er mourn for me, 
 
 Nor more esteem me. 
 Victor I will remain, 
 Or on this earth lie slain. 
 Never shall she sustain 
 Loss to redeem me. 
 
 "Poitiers and Cressy tell, 
 When most their pride did swell. 
 Under our swords they fell. 
 
 No less our skill is. 
 Than when our grandsire-great, 
 Claiming the regal seat. 
 By many a warlike feat 
 
 Lopped the French lilies." 
 
 The Duke of York so dread 
 The eager va'ward led ; 
 With the main, Henry sped. 
 Amongst his henchmen. 
 140 
 
MORNING OF THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT 
 
THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT 
 
 Exeter had the rear, 
 A braver man not there, 
 O lord, how hot they were 
 On the false Frenchmen! 
 
 They now to fight are gone. 
 Armor on armor shone, 
 Drum now to drum did groan, 
 
 To hear, was wonder; 
 That with the cries they make, 
 The very earth did shake. 
 Trumpet to trumpet spake, 
 
 Thunder to thunder. 
 
 Well it thine age became, 
 O noble Erpingham, 
 Which didst the signal aim 
 
 To our hid forces; 
 When from a meadow by, 
 Like a storm suddenly, 
 The English archery 
 
 Struck the French horses. 
 
 With Spanish yew so strong, 
 Arrows a cloth-yard long, 
 That like to serpents stung, 
 
 Piercing the weather; 
 None from his fellow starts. 
 But playing manly parts, 
 And like true English hearts, 
 
 Stuck close together. 
 
 141 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 When down their bows they threw, 
 And forth their bilbos drew, 
 And on the French they flew, 
 
 Not one was tardy; 
 Arms were from shoulders sent, 
 Scalps to the teeth were rent, 
 Down the French peasants went. 
 
 Our men were hardy. 
 
 This while our noble king. 
 His broadsword brandishing, 
 Down the French host d.id ding, 
 
 As to o'erwhelm it, 
 And many a deep wound lent. 
 His arms with blood besprent. 
 And many a cruel dent 
 
 Bruised his helmet. 
 
 Gloucester, that duke so good. 
 Next of the royal blood. 
 For famous England stood. 
 
 With his brave brother; 
 Clarence, in steel so bright. 
 Though but a maiden knight, 
 Yet in that furious fight 
 
 Scarce such another. 
 
 Warwick in blood did wade, 
 Oxford the foe invade, 
 And cruel slaughter made. 
 Still as they ran up; 
 142 
 
THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT 
 
 Suffolk his axe did ply, 
 Beaumont and Willoughby 
 Bare them right doughtily, 
 Ferrers and Fanhope. 
 
 Upon Saint Crispin's day 
 Fought was this noble fray, 
 Which fame did not delay 
 
 To England to carry; 
 Oh, when shall Englishmen 
 With such acts fill a pen, 
 Or England breed again 
 
 Such a King Harry? 
 
THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 
 
 [1485I 
 
 BY OWEN EHOSCOMYL 
 
 [Toward the end of the fifteenth century Richard III suc- 
 ceeded in usurping the throne of England. His tyranny and 
 tlie crimes by which he had accompKshed his object so 
 aroused the English people that they invited Henry Tudor, 
 a descendant of John of Gaunt and also of Owen Tudor, a 
 Welsh gentleman who had married the widow of Henry V, to 
 become their sovereign. He landed at Milford in 1485, and 
 was soon engaged in a fierce battle with Richard at Bos- 
 worth. Henry was successful and was crowned on the battle- 
 field as Henry VII. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 Cloudily dawned the morning of that Monday, 
 August 22, 1485, when Henry Tudor drew out the host 
 of his gallant countrymen for the battle that was to 
 close a thousand years of struggle. It was to close 
 more; it was to close the mediaeval period of British 
 history, and to open the modern day, the day of our 
 own empire. 
 
 Richard III, king that morning, drew out his host 
 from its tents at Sutton, and saw, two miles to his left 
 front, the host of Henry, king that night. To his right 
 front, on Hanging Hill at Nether Coton, he saw the 
 host of Sir William Stanley, the men of Northeast 
 Cymru. On his immediate right lay Lord Stanley's men. 
 
 144 
 
THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 
 
 He sent to order Lord Stanley to join him, but Lord 
 Stanley would not come. 
 
 Then Richard measured what he had to do. His army 
 was nearly equal in numbers to all the other three com- 
 bined. It was far better equipped and armored. More- 
 over, it was composed for the most part of veteran 
 troops; there were no sweepings of jails and hospitals 
 with him, like the men that Henry had brought from 
 France. 
 
 The ground, too, was all in Richard's favor. In front 
 of him ran out the long tongue of Anbian Hill. Round 
 it, on the north and west, lay a long, winding marsh, 
 between him and the other armies. That marsh could 
 only be crossed at Sandeford, where the ancient track- 
 way, which he had followed from Stapleton, ran on 
 down from Anbian Hill to Shenton and Henry's camp. 
 Therefore he would take up a position on the end of the 
 ridge of Anbian Hill, overlooking Sandeford crossing, 
 and there wait Henry's coming. Richard was one of the 
 best generals of his day. 
 
 But if he were to march straight off to do it, then Lord 
 Stanley, yonder on his right, might swing round the 
 head of the marsh, and attack him from behind, just 
 when the others attacked him in front. That would 
 mean certain defeat. Therefore he commanded the 
 Earl of Northumberland, whose men were as many as 
 Lord Stanley's, to stand fast where he was, and keep 
 Lord Stanley off. Then, with his eight thousand and 
 more of veterans, he set forward along the ridge of 
 Anbian Hill. 
 
 Henry Tudor, as he drew out his men from the camp 
 at Whitemoor, could look across the marsh and see the 
 
 145 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 plain of Redmoor beyond it, swelling up into the crest of 
 Anbian Hill. On that crest he could see the front of 
 Richard's army, one wide wave of glittering steel, rang- 
 ing into position. He saw what Richard intended. He 
 knew that he himself must cross the marsh and attack 
 Anbian Hill. 
 
 Every disadvantage was with Henry. His own men, 
 including the worthless foreigners, were not nearly so 
 many as Richard's. He had sent for Lord Stanley, and 
 Lord Stanley had refused to come to him. But he still 
 trusted Sir William Stanley, for Sir William's men were 
 Cymry. 
 
 He knew that the marsh could only be crossed at 
 Sandeford. The ancient trackway from his camp led to 
 that crossing, and onward to Richard's position. The 
 track would lead him the right way then; the marsh 
 would protect his right flank while he marched to Sande- 
 ford, and there, when he turned the head of the column 
 to the right to cross the Httle stream, the troops of Sir 
 William Stanley would be but a mile or so away, behind 
 him on Hanging Hill. Then Sir William could follow 
 him on over the crossing and Join him in the attack. It 
 was the only plan, now, — and he marched to carry it 
 out. 
 
 When he came to Sandeford, he led the way across the 
 marsh to array his men on Redmoor beyond. Still no 
 Stanley came. But it was ten o'clock, and the battle 
 must be fought, Stanley or no Stanley. Above him rose 
 the steel-crowned crest of Anbian, and the harvest sun 
 shone dazzingly into the eyes of his archers as they 
 faced the slope. Behind them was the wide marsh to 
 cut them off from retreat or flight if they were beaten. 
 
 146 
 
THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 
 
 They were few and the foes were many. They were on 
 the low ground, and the foe with his cannon was on the 
 high ground. To attack now would be boldness, indeed. 
 But they were bold hearts; they attacked. 
 
 When the order was given to prepare — "Lord!" says 
 the old chronicler, "how hastily the soldiers buckled on 
 their helms; how quickly the archers bent their bows 
 and flushed the feathers of their arrows; how readily 
 the billmen shook their bills and proved their staves, 
 ready to approach and join, when the terrible trumpet 
 should sound the blast to victory or death." 
 
 The chronicler used the right word there. It was a 
 case of victory or death to the leaders. For Henry was 
 striking for the crown that meant life and safety to him. 
 The exiles were striking for the home that was the only 
 place in the world for them. The Cymry were striking, 
 in the fire of a pride that nothing could kill. Well might 
 Richard feel haunted. 
 
 He looked at all the Cymric banners ranged against 
 him, and he called for a bowl of Burgundy, and turned 
 to his squire, Rhys Vychan. 
 
 "Here, Vychan," he cried, "I drink to thee; the truest 
 Welshman that ever I found in Wales." And with the 
 words he drank the wine, threw the bowl behind him, 
 and gave the word for the onset. 
 
 His van was stretched from the marsh on the right to 
 the marsh on the left — "a very terrible company to 
 them that should see them afar off," says the chronicler. 
 In the center were the archers, and on either hand of 
 them two wings of men-at-arms, covered with steel 
 from top to toe. Behind them on the hill were Richard 
 and his main body with the cannon. 
 
 147 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Henry's van was thin, because his men were fewer. 
 But they were enough. The trumpet blew, the soldiers 
 shouted, the king's archers let fly their arrows. But 
 Henry's bowmen stood not still, they paid them back 
 again. Then, the terrible shot once over, the armies 
 came to handstrokes, and the matter v/as dealt with 
 blades. 
 
 Henry's tactics were all boldness. He still felt that 
 Sir William Stanley's m.en must come in, for they were 
 Cymry, too, unhke Lord Stanley's. Therefore he pressed 
 the fight on Richard's left till his van had outflanked it. 
 By this movement he could face the slope now with the 
 sun at his back, while it shone in the faces of Richard's 
 men, dazzling their eyes in turn. By this movement, 
 too, he had got Richard's army between him and Sir 
 William Stanley, so that it would be taken in front and 
 rear when Stanley charged — a thing that would mean 
 complete disaster for Richard. 
 
 Richard saw that, and with his cavalry swung round 
 to comg on Henry's right flank and rear. But there was 
 another green spread of m.arsh (where now wave Anbian 
 Woods) and it was too soft. His good white horse stuck 
 fast. Shouting for another horse he mounted again, and 
 led the thundering charge straight at Henry's flank. 
 But Earl Jasper was watching. He had the main body 
 of Henry's men under him, the men of old Deheubarth, 
 and while the gallant Earl of Oxford continued the fight 
 in the van, against the Duke of Norfolk, Jasper faced 
 his men to meet the desperate Richard, and beat back 
 his furious onset. Thus, "in array triangle," the fight 
 raged on. 
 
 Keenly Henry watched the fight. Now or never was 
 148 
 
THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 
 
 the moment. Where was Will Stanley with his Cymry? 
 In his anxiety he rode back, attended only by his body- 
 guard and standard-bearer, towards Sandeford, to 
 where he could see if Will Stanley were coming. And as 
 he drew rein to look, one of Richard's men saw him and 
 sped away with the news to his master. 
 
 Richard was pausing for a drink from the spring, 
 which is to this day called "King Richard's Well," 
 when the word was brought to him. He saw at once 
 that he had stiU one last desperate chance. If he could 
 reach and kill Henry, then the victory would be his, 
 seeing that there would be no one left for Henry's men 
 to fight for. He seized the chance. "Let all true knights 
 follow me," he shouted, and spurred away over the kill 
 to where he should find Henry. 
 
 Fast poured the flower of Richard's knights after him 
 while Henry's bodyguard saw the onset coming and 
 closed its ranks to defend him. Richard marked the 
 great standard that Sir William Brandon bore, and he 
 charged upon it Hke a demon. He unhorsed huge Sir 
 John Cheyney who tried to bar his way. Lie slew the 
 standard-bearer, and laid a hand upon the standard 
 itself. But giant Rhys ap Meredydd, of Nant Conwy, 
 seized it from him and drove him back a breadth, while 
 Henry himself met him with a fury that astonished 
 friend and foe. 
 
 Richard raged like a madman, but it was all too late 
 now. Sir William's men were here at last, Richard ap 
 Hov/el, of Most3Ti, with the rest and best. King Richard 
 was borne back, fighting like ten men, yet still borne 
 back. His horse fell; his lords and knights were dead or 
 dying fast around him. Still he raged on. Then came 
 
 149 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Dark Rhys ap Thomas, seeking the king who had once 
 threatened him, and tradition still tells how the blade 
 of Dark Rhys ended the life of the last Norman king, 
 Richard III. 
 
 The fall of Richard was the end of the battle, too, for 
 all his men fled at that. Northumberland laid down his 
 arms — there was no more to fight for. Lord Stanley 
 whose troops had never struck a blow, hurried over to 
 Henry, whose men were following the flight of the van- 
 quished. 
 
 But all was not done yet. The long, fierce dream of the 
 stubborn Cymry was to be fulfilled to the very letter. 
 They had come into England to win the crown of Britain 
 back for one of the old blood of its founder. They did it 
 in very deed. For when the chase was ended, the crown 
 of dead King Richard was found in a hawthorn bush, 
 and Lord Stanley lifted it and placed it on the head of 
 Henry. 
 
 Thus was the long dream fulfilled. The crown of 
 Britain was come back to the descendant of its founder 
 at last. And the wild shout of triumph with which the 
 victors hailed their countryman king is remembered to 
 this day in the name of the field in which they stood and 
 watched him crowned. Its name means "The Field of 
 the Shout." 
 
 You may still see the stone whereon that crowning 
 took place. It is in Stoke Golding, and the spot is still 
 called "Crown Flill," in memory of the only time that 
 ever a King of England was crowned on the field of 
 battle. 
 
 Lost in battle, that crown had come back in battle. 
 Did the bones of all the slain generations of the Cymry 
 
 ISO 
 
THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 
 
 who had struggled for this day stir in their red graves 
 at that shout? Surely their spirits knew when the work 
 was done at last. Surely a sound like the moving of 
 a mighty wind must have swept over Cymru, for the 
 ghosts of all the heroes, slain in the battles of the thou- 
 sand years of struggle, could leave their graves at last 
 and go to God — the long work done, the victory won; 
 the **Nunc Dimittis" chanted o'er the mountains as 
 they passed. 
 
ON THE FIELD OF FLODDEN 
 
 [1513] 
 
 BY SIR WALTER SCOTT 
 
 [Margaret Tudor, sister of Henry VIII of England,became 
 the wife of James IV of Scotland. Now, there were certain 
 jewels which were to be given to Margaret, but Henry refused 
 to send them to her. Naturally, that aroused the wrath of 
 ELing James. Moreover, although the two countries were at 
 peace, the Lord High Admiral of England seized two Scot- 
 tish ships, and Henry refused to pay for their loss. Again, 
 Henry was about to make war on France, and as France and 
 Scotland were good friends, James stood by France. He 
 crossed the border and captured some English castles. At 
 last, in September, I5i3,the Scots and English met at Flod- 
 den Field. 
 
 The Editor :\ 
 
 "But, see! look up — on Flodden bent, 
 The Scottish foe has fired his tent." — 
 
 And sudden, as he spoke, 
 From the sharp ridges of the hill, 
 All downward to the banks of Till, 
 
 Was wreathed in sable smoke : 
 Volumed, and vast, and rolUng far, 
 The cloud enveloped Scotland's war, 
 
 As dowTi the hill they broke; 
 Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, 
 Announced their march; their tread alone 
 At times one warning trumpet blowTi, 
 
 At times a stifled hum, 
 
 152 
 
ON THE FIELD OF FLODDEN 
 
 Told England, from his mountain- throne 
 
 King James did rushing come. — 
 Scarce could they hear or see their foes, 
 Until at weapon-point they close. — 
 They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, 
 With sword-sway and with lance's thrust; 
 
 And such a yell was there. 
 Of sudden and portentous birth, 
 As if men fought upon the earth,* 
 
 And fiends in upper air. 
 Long looked the anxious squires; their eye 
 Could in the darkness naught descry. 
 At length the freshening western blast 
 Aside the shroud of battle cast; 
 And, first, the ridge of mingled spears 
 Above the brightening cloud appears; 
 And in the smoke the pennons flew, 
 As in the storm the white sea-mew. 
 Then marked they, dashing broad and far, 
 The broken billows of the war, 
 And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 
 Floating like foam upon the wave 
 
 But naught distinct they see ; 
 Wide raged the battle on the plain, 
 Spears shook, and falchions flashed amain, 
 Fell England's arrow-flight like rain. 
 Crests rose, and stooped, and rose again. 
 
 Wild and disorderly. 
 Amid the scene of tumult, high 
 They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly: 
 And stainless Tunstall's banner white. 
 And Edmund Howard's lion bright, 
 
 1S3 
 
THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Still bear them bravely in the fight;, 
 
 Although against them come, 
 Of gallant Gordons many a one, 
 And many a stubborn Highlandman, 
 And many a rugged Border clan, 
 
 With Huntley, and with Home. 
 Far on the left, unseen the while, 
 Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle, 
 Though there the western mountaineer 
 Rushed with bare bosom on the spear. 
 And flung the feeble targe aside. 
 And with both hands the broadsword plied; 
 'T was vain. — But Fortune, on the right. 
 With fickle smile, cheered Scotland's fight. 
 Then fell that spotless banner white, 
 
 The Howard's lion fell: 
 Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew 
 With wavering flight, while fiercer grew 
 
 Around the battle yell. 
 The border slogan rent the sky. 
 '*A Home! a Gordon!" was the cry; 
 
 Loud were the clanging blows; 
 Advanced, — forced back, — now low, now high, 
 
 The pennon sank and rose; 
 As bends the bark's mast in the gale, 
 When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, 
 
 It wavered 'mid the foes. 
 
 • •••••••• 
 
 But as they left the dark'ning heath. 
 More desperate grew the strife of death. 
 The English shafts in volleys hailed, 
 In headlong charge their horse assailed: 
 
 154 
 
ON THE FIELD OF FLODDEN 
 
 Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep 
 To break the Scottish circle deep, 
 
 That fought around their king. 
 But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, 
 Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, 
 Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, 
 
 Unbroken was the ring; 
 The stubborn spearmen still made good 
 
 Their dark, impenetrable wood, 
 Each stepping where his comrade stood, 
 
 The instant that he fell. 
 No thought was there of dastard flight; — 
 Linked in the serried phalanx tight, 
 Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, 
 
 As fearlessly and well: 
 Till utter darkness closed her wing 
 O'er their thin host and wounded king. 
 Then skilful Surrey's sage commands 
 Led back from strife his shattered bands; 
 
 And from the charge they drew, 
 As mountain-waves, from wasted lands, 
 
 Sweep back to ocean blue. 
 Then did their loss his foeman know, 
 Their king, their lords, their mightiest low. 
 They melted from the field as snow, 
 When streams are swoln and south winds blow, 
 . Dissolves in silent dew. 
 Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, 
 While many a broken band. 
 Disordered, through her currents dash. 
 
 To gain the Scottish land; 
 To town and tower, to down and dale, 
 
 155 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, 
 And raise the universal wail. 
 Tradition, legend, tune, and song, 
 Shall many an age that wail prolong. 
 Still from the sire the son shall hear 
 Of the stern strife and carnage drear, 
 
 Of Flodden's fatal field, 
 Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, 
 
 And broken was her shield! 
 
THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 
 
 [1574] 
 
 BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY 
 
 This city was one of the most beautiful in the Nether- 
 lands. Placed in the midst of broad, fruitful pastures, 
 which had been reclaimed by the hand of industry 
 from the bottom of the sea, it was fringed with smil- 
 ing villages, blooming gardens, fruitful orchards. The 
 ancient, and, at last, decrepit Rhine, flowing languidly 
 towards its sandy death-bed, had been multiplied into 
 innumerable artificial currents, by which the city was 
 completely interlaced. These watery streets were shaded 
 by lime trees, poplars, and willows, and crossed by one 
 hundred and forty-five bridges, mostly of hammered 
 stone. The houses were elegant, the squares and streets 
 spacious, airy, and clean, the churches and public edi- 
 fices imposing, while the whole aspect of the place sug- 
 gested thrift, industry, and comfort. Upon an artificial 
 elevation, in the center of the city, rose a ruined tower 
 of unknown antiquity. By some it was considered to 
 be of Roman origin, while others preferred to regard it 
 as a work of the Anglo-Saxon Hengist, raised to com- 
 memorate his conquest of England. Surrounded by fruit 
 trees, and overgrown in the center with oaks, it afforded 
 from its mouldering battlements, a charming prospect 
 over a wide expanse of level country, with the spires 
 of neighboring cities rising in every direction. It was 
 from this commanding height, during the long and ter- 
 
 157 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 rible summer days which were approaching, that many 
 an eye was to be strained anxiously seaward, watching 
 if yet the ocean had begun to roll over the land. 
 
 [In 1574, the Spaniards under Don Francis Valdez be- 
 sieged Leyden, and built so many redoubts around the city 
 that there was no hope of succor coming to it by land. Food 
 was already becoming scarce when Philip offered to pardon 
 his "erring subjects" if they would give up their religion 
 and return to the Roman Catholic Church. Half starving 
 as they were, they refused. William of Orange held the 
 fortress of Poldermaert; between him and the besieged city 
 a precarious communication was kept up by carrier-pigeons 
 and venturesome messengers called "jumpers." The 
 Netherlanders were weak on land, but on the sea they were 
 irresistible, and William believed that the only way to save 
 the city was to break down the dikes, open the sluice-gates, 
 and allow the ocean to roll over the country. Then their 
 fleet could sail over the submerged land and bring relief to 
 the famishing city. The Hollanders agreed. "Better a 
 drowned land than a lost land, " they cried. Money, plate, 
 and jewelry poured in that the work might progress. The 
 dikes were pierced and the waters poured over the country. 
 Admiral Boisot with eight hundred "Sea Beggars," as the 
 rebel sailors were called, set out boldly on the new ocean to 
 carry food to Leyden, but when almost within sight of the 
 city the boats ran aground. Eighteen inches of water were 
 needed to float them, and there was no chance of getting it 
 unless the wind should shift to the west and roll the ocean 
 in through the gaps in the dikes.] 
 
 Meantime, the besieged city was at its last gasp. The 
 "burghers had been in a state of uncertainty for many 
 days; being aware that the fleet had set forth for their 
 relief, but knowing full well the thousand obstacles 
 which it had to surmount. They had guessed its 
 
 158 
 
THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 
 
 progress by the illumination from the blazing villages; 
 they had heard its salvos of artillery on its arrival at 
 North Aa ; but since then, all had been dark and mourn- 
 ful again, hope and fear, in sickening alternation, dis- 
 tracting every breast. They knew that the wind was 
 unfavorable, and at the dawn of each day every eye was 
 turned wistfully to the vanes of the steeples. So long 
 as the easterly breeze prevail-ed, they felt, as they anx- 
 iously stood on towers and housetops, that they must 
 look in vain for the welcome ocean. Yet, while thus 
 patiently waiting, they were literally starving; for even 
 the misery endured at Harlem had not reached that 
 depth and intensity of agony to which Leyden was now 
 reduced. Bread, malt-cake, horse-flesh, had entirely 
 disappeared; dogs, cats, rats, and other vermin, were 
 esteemed luxuries. A small number of cows, kept as 
 long as possible, for their milk, still remained ; but a few 
 were killed from day to day, and distributed in minute 
 proportions, hardly sufficient to support life among 
 the famishing population. Starving wretches swarmed 
 daily around the shambles where these cattle were 
 slaughtered, contending for any morsel which might 
 fall, and lapping eagerly the blood as it ran along the 
 pavement; while the hides, chopped and boiled, were 
 greedily devoured. Women and children, all day long, 
 were seen searching gutters and dunghills for morsels 
 of food, which they disputed fiercely with the famish- 
 ing dogs. The green leaves were stripped from the trees, 
 every living herb was converted into human food, but 
 these expedients could not avert starvation. The daily 
 mortality was frightful — infants starved to death on 
 the maternal breasts, which famine had parched and 
 
 159 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 withered; mothers dropped dead in the streets, with 
 their dead children in their arms. In many a house the 
 watchmen, in their rounds, found a whole family of 
 corpses, father, mother, and children, side by side, for a 
 disorder called the plague, naturally engendered of hard- 
 ship and famine, now came, as if in kindness, to abridge 
 the agony of the people. The pestilence stalked at noon- 
 day through the city, and the doomed inhabitants fell 
 like grass beneath its scythe. From six thousand to 
 eight thousand human beings sank before this scourge 
 alone, yet the people resolutely held out — women and 
 men mutually encouraging each other to resist the en- 
 trance of their foreign foe — an evil more horrible than 
 pest or famine. 
 
 The missives from Valdez, who saw more vividly than 
 the besieged could do, the uncertainty of his own posi- 
 tion, now poured daily into the city, the enemy becom- 
 ing more prodigal of his vows, as he felt that the ocean 
 might yet save the victims from his grasp. The inhabi- 
 tants, in their ignorance, had gradually abandoned their 
 hopes of relief, but they spurned the summons to sur- 
 render. Leyden was sublime in its despair. A few mur- 
 murs were, however, occasionally heard at the stead- 
 fastness of the magistrates, and a dead body was placed 
 at the door of the burgomaster, as a silent witness against 
 his inflexibility. A party of the more faint-hearted even 
 assailed the heroic Adrian Van der Werf with threats 
 and reproaches as he passed through the streets. A 
 crowd had gathered around him, as he reached a trian- 
 gular place in the center of the town, into which many 
 of the principal streets emptied themselves, and upon one 
 side of which stood the church of Saint Pancras, with its 
 
 i6o 
 
THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 
 
 high brick tower surmounted by two pointed turrets, 
 ajid with two ancient lime trees at its entrance. There 
 stood the burgomaster, a tall, haggard, imposing figure, 
 with dark visage, and a tranquil but commanding eye. 
 He waved his broad-leaved felt hat for silence, and then 
 exclaimed in language which has been almost literally 
 preserved, "What would ye, my friends? Why do ye 
 murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender 
 the city to the Spaniards? a fate more horrible than the 
 agony which she now endures. I tell you I have made 
 an oath to hold the city, and may God give me strength 
 to keep my oath ! I can die but once ; whether by your 
 hands, the enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own 
 fate is indifferent to me, not so that of the city entrusted 
 to my care. I know that we shall starve if not soon 
 relieved; but starvation is preferable to the dishonored 
 death which is the only alternative. Your menaces 
 move me not; my life is at your disposal; here is my 
 sword, plunge it into my breast, and divide my flesh 
 among you. Take my body to appease your hunger, 
 but expect no surrender, so long as I remain alive." 
 
 The words of the stout burgomaster inspired a new 
 courage in the hearts of those who heard him, and a 
 shout of applause and defiance arose from the famishing 
 but enthusiastic crowd. They left the place, after ex- 
 changing new vows of fidelity with their magistrate, and 
 again ascended tower and battlement to watch for the 
 coming fleet. From the ramparts they hurled renewed 
 defiance to the enemy. "Ye call us rat-eaters and dog- 
 eaters," they cried, "and it is true. So long, then, as ye 
 hear dog bark or cat mew within the walls, ye may know 
 that the city holds out. And when all has perished but 
 
 i6i 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 ourselves, be sure that we will each devour our left arm 
 retaining our right to defend our women, our liberty, 
 and our religion, against the foreign tyrant. Should 
 God, in his wrath, doom us to destruction, and deny us 
 all relief, even then will we maintain ourselves forever 
 against your entrance. When the last hour has come, 
 with our own hands we will set fire to the city and perish, 
 men, women, and children together in the flames, rather 
 than suffer our homes to be polluted and our liberties to 
 be crushed." Such words of defiance, thundered daily 
 from the battlements, sufficiently informed Valdez as 
 to his chance of conquering the city, either by force or 
 fraud; but at the same time, he felt comparatively re- 
 lieved by the inactivity of Boisot's fleet, which still lay 
 stranded at North Aa. "As well," shouted the Span- 
 iards derisively to the citizens, — "as well can the 
 Prince of Orange pluck the stars from the sky as bring 
 the ocean to the walls of Leyden for your relief." 
 
 On the 28th of September, a dove flew into the city, 
 bringing a letter from Admiral Boisot. In this dispatch, 
 the position of the fleet at North Aa was described in 
 encouraging terms, and the inhabitants were assured 
 that, in a very few days at farthest, the long-expected 
 relief would enter their gates. The letter was read pub- 
 licly upon the market-place, and the bells were rung for 
 joy. Nevertheless, on the morrow, the vanes pointed to 
 the east, the waters, so far from rising, continued to sink, 
 and Admiral Boisot was almost in despair. He wrote to 
 the prince, that if the spring-tide, now to be expected, 
 should not, together with a strong and favorable wind, 
 come immediately to their relief, it would be in vain to 
 attempt anything further, and that the expedition 
 
 162 
 
THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 
 
 would of necessity, be abandoned. The tempest came 
 to their relief. A violent equinoctial gale, on the night 
 of the ist and 2d of October, came storming from the 
 northwest, shifting after a few hours full eight points, 
 and then blowing still more violently from the south- 
 west. The waters of the North Sea were piled in vast 
 masses upon the southern coast of Holland, and then 
 dashed furiously landward, the ocean rising over the 
 earth, and sweeping with unrestrained power across the 
 ruined dikes. 
 
 In the course of twenty-four hours, the fleet at North 
 Aa, instead of nine inches, had more than two feet of 
 water. No time was lost. The Kirk-way, which had 
 been broken through according to the prince's instruc- 
 tions, was now completely overflowed, and the fleet 
 sailed at midnight, in the midst of the storm and dark- 
 ness. A few sentinel vessels of the enemy challenged 
 them as they steadily rowed towards Zoeterwoude. The 
 answer was a flash from Boisot's cannon, lighting up 
 the black waste of waters. There was a fierce midnight 
 battle ; a strange spectacle among the branches of those 
 quiet orchards, and with the chimney stacks of half- 
 submerged farmhouses rising around the contending 
 vessels. The neighboring village of Zoeterwoude shook 
 with the discharges of the Zealanders' cannon, and the 
 Spaniards assembled in that fortress knew that the rebel 
 admiral was at last afloat and on his course. The ene- 
 my's vessels were soon sunk, and their crews hurled into 
 the waves. On went the fleet, sweeping over the broad 
 waters which lay between Zoeterwoude and Zwieten. 
 As they approached some shallows, which led into the 
 great mere, the Zealanders dashed into the sea, and with 
 
 163 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 sheer strength shouldered every vessel through. Two 
 obstacles lay still in their path — the forts of Zoeter- 
 woude and Lammen, distant from the city five hundred 
 and two hundred and fifty yards respectively. Strong 
 redoubts, both well supplied with troops and artillery, 
 they were likely to give a rough reception to the light 
 flotilla, but the panic, which had hitherto driven their 
 foes before the advancing patriots, had reached Zoeter- 
 woude. Hardly was the fleet in sight when the Spaniards, 
 in the early morning, poured out from the fortress, and 
 fled precipitately to the left, along a road which led in 
 a westerly direction towards The Hague. Their narrow 
 path was rapidly vanishing in the waves, and hundreds 
 sank beneath the constantly deepening and treacherous 
 flood. The wild Zealanders, too, sprang from their 
 vessels upon the crumbling dike and drove their retreat- 
 ing foes into the sea. They hurled their harpoons at 
 them, with an accuracy acquired in many a polar chase; 
 they plunged into the waves in the keen pursuit, attack- 
 ing them with boat-hook and dagger. The numbers who 
 thus fell beneath these corsairs, who neither gave nor 
 took quarter, were never counted, but probably not less 
 than a thousand perished. The rest effected their escape 
 to The Hague. 
 
 The first fortress was thus seized, dismantled, set on 
 fire, and passed, and a few strokes of the oars brought 
 the whole fleet close to Lammen. This last obstacle rose 
 formidable and frowning directly across their path. 
 Swarming as it was with soldiers, and bristling with 
 artillery, it seemed to defy the armada either to carry 
 it by storm or to pass under its guns into the city. It 
 appeared that the enterprise was, after all, to founder 
 
 164 
 
THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 
 
 within sight of the long expecting and expected haven. 
 Boisot anchored his fleet within a respectful distance, 
 and spent what remained of the day in carefully recon- 
 noitering the fort, which seemed only too strong. In 
 conjunction with Leyderdorp, the headquarters of 
 Baldez, a mile and a half distant on the right, and within 
 a mile of the city, it seemed so insuperable an impedi- 
 ment that Boisot wrote in despondent tone to the 
 Prince of Orange. He announced his intention of carry- 
 ing the fort, if it were possible, on the following morn- 
 ing; but if obliged to retreat, he observed, with some- 
 thing like despair, that there would be nothing for it but 
 to wait for another gale of wind. If the waters should 
 rise sufficiently to enable them to make a wide detour, it 
 might be possible, if, in the mean time, Leyden did not 
 starve or surrender, to enter its gates from the opposite 
 side. 
 
 Meantime, the citizens had grown wild with expecta- 
 tion. A dove had been dispatched by Boisot, informing 
 them of his precise position, and a number of citizens 
 accompanied the burgomaster, at nightfall, towards the 
 tower of Hengist. — "Yonder," cried the burgomaster, 
 stretching out his hand towards Lammen, "yonder, 
 behind that fort, are bread and meat, and brethren in 
 thousands. Shall all this be destroyed by the Spanish 
 guns, or shall we rush to the rescue of our friends?" 
 "We will tear the fortress to fragments with our teeth 
 and nails," was the reply, "before the relief, so long 
 expected, shall be wrested from us." It was resolved 
 that a sortie, in conjunction with the operations of 
 Boisot, should be made against Lammen with the earli- 
 est dawn. Night descended upon the scene, a pitch- 
 
 165 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 dark night, full of anxiety to the Spaniards, to the 
 armada, to Leyden. Strange sights and sounds occurred 
 at different moments to bewilder the anxious sentinels. 
 A long procession of lights issuing from the fort was seen 
 to flit across the black face of the waters, in the dead of 
 night, and the whole of the city wall, between the Cow- 
 gate and the Tower of Burgundy, fell with a loud crash. 
 The horror-struck citizens thought that the Spaniards 
 were upon them at last; the Spaniards imagined the 
 noise to indicate a desperate sortie of the citizens. 
 Everything was vague and mysterious. 
 
 Day dawned at length after the feverish night, and 
 the admiral prepared for the assault. Within the for- 
 tress reigned a death-like stillness, which inspired a 
 sickening suspicion. Had the city, indeed, been carried 
 in the night; had the massacre already commenced; had 
 all this labor and audacity been expended in vain? 
 Suddenly a man was descried, wading breast-high 
 through the water from Lammen towards the fleet, 
 while at the same time, one solitary boy was seen to 
 wave his cap from the summit of the fort. After a 
 moment of doubt, the happy mystery was solved. The 
 Spaniards had fled, panic-struck, during the darkness. 
 Their position would still have enabled them, with 
 firmness, to frustrate the enterprise of the patriots, but 
 the hand of God, which had sent the ocean and the 
 tempest to the deliverance of Leyden, had struck her 
 enemies with terror likewise. The lights which had been 
 seen moving during the night were the lanterns of the 
 retreating Spaniards, and the boy who was now waving 
 his triumphant signal from the battlements had alone 
 witnessed the spectacle. So confident was he in the 
 
 i66 
 
THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 
 
 conclusion to which it led him, that he had volunteered 
 at daybreak to go thither all alone. The magistrates, 
 fearing a trap, hesitated for a moment to believe the 
 truth, which soon, however, became quite evident. 
 Valdez, flying himself from Leyderdorp, had ordered 
 Colonel Borgia to retire with all his troops from Lam- 
 men. Thus, the Spaniards had retreated at the very 
 moment that an extraordinary accident had laid bare a 
 whole side of the city for their entrance. The noise of 
 the wall, as it fell, only inspired them with fresh alarm ; 
 for they believed that the citizens had sallied forth in 
 the darkness, to aid the advancing flood in the work of 
 destruction. All obstacles being now removed, the fleet 
 of Boisot swept by Lammen and entered the city on the 
 morning of the 3d of October. Leyden was relieved. 
 
 The quays were lined with the famishing population 
 as the fleet rowed through the canals, every human being 
 who could stand coming forth to greet the preservers 
 of the city. Bread was thrown from every vessel among 
 the crowd. The poor creatures who for two months had 
 tasted no wholesome human food, and who had literally 
 been living within the jaws of death, snatched eagerly 
 the blessed gift, at last too liberally bestowed. Many 
 choked themselves to death, in the greediness with 
 which they devoured their bread; others became ill with 
 the effect of plenty thus suddenly succeeding starvation; 
 — but these were isolated cases, a repetition of which 
 was prevented. The admiral, stepping ashore, was wel- 
 comed by the magistracy, and a solemn procession was 
 immediately formed. Magistrates and citizens, wild 
 Zealanders, emaciated burgher guards, sailors, soldiers, 
 women, children — nearly every living person within the 
 
 167 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 walls, all repaired without delay to the great church, 
 stout Admiral Boisot leading the way. The starving and 
 heroic city, which had been so firm in its resistance to an 
 earthly king, now bent itself in humble gratitude before 
 the King of kings. After prayers the whole vast congre- 
 gation joined in the thanksgiving hymn. Thousands of 
 voices raised the song, but few were able to carry it to 
 its conclusion, for the universal emotion, deepened by 
 the music, became too full for utterance. The hymn was 
 abruptly suspended, while the multitude wept like 
 children. This scene of honest pathos terminated, the 
 necessary measures for distributing the food and for 
 relieving the sick were taken by the magistracy. A note 
 dispatched to the Prince of Orange was received by him 
 at two o'clock, as he sat in church at Delft. It was of a 
 somewhat different purport from that of the letter which 
 he had received early in the same day from Boisot; the 
 letter in which the admiral had informed him that the 
 success of the enterprise depended, after all, upon the 
 desperate assault upon a nearly impregnable fort. The 
 joy of the prince may be easily imagined, and so soon as 
 the sermon was concluded, he handed the letter just 
 received to the minister, to be read to the congregation. 
 Thus all participated in his joy, and united with him in 
 thanksgiving. 
 
THE BATTLE OF IVRY 
 
 [1590] 
 
 BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 
 
 [When Henry of Navarre, a Protestant, inherited the French 
 crown, he was opposed by the Catholic Party, led by the 
 Duke of Mayenne and aided by Spain and Savoy. In 1590, 
 Henry gained a decisive victory over the Duke at Ivry. 
 Just before the battle, he said to his troops, *'My children, 
 if you lose sight of your colors, rally to my white plume — 
 you will always find it in the path to honor and glory." In 
 1593, Henry abjured Protestantism and was crowned king. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories 
 are! 
 
 And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Na- 
 varre ! 
 
 Now let there be the merry sound of music and the dance, 
 
 Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vines, oh pleas- 
 ant land of France ! 
 
 And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the 
 waters. 
 
 Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning 
 daughters. 
 
 As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, 
 
 For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy 
 walls annoy. 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of 
 war; 
 
 Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre. 
 
 169 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Oh ! how our hearts were beating, when at the dawn of 
 
 day, 
 We saw the army of the League drawn out in long 
 
 array ; 
 With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers. 
 And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish 
 
 spears. 
 There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our 
 
 land! 
 And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his 
 
 hand; 
 And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's em- 
 purpled flood. 
 And good Coligny's hoary hair all dabbled with his 
 
 blood; 
 And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of 
 
 war, 
 To fight for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. 
 
 The king is come to marshal us, in all his armor drest. 
 And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant 
 
 crest: 
 He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; 
 He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern 
 
 and high. 
 Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to 
 
 wing, 
 Down all our line, in deafening shout, "God save our 
 
 lord, the King." 
 "And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he 
 
 may — 
 For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray — 
 
 170 
 
THE BATTLE OF IVRY 
 
 Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the 
 
 ranks of war, 
 And be your oriflamme, to-day, the helmet of Navarre." 
 
 Hurrah! the foes are moving! Hark to the mingled 
 din 
 
 Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring 
 culverin ! 
 
 The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's 
 plain, 
 
 With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. 
 
 Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of 
 France, 
 
 Charge for the golden lilies now, upon them with the 
 lance ! 
 
 A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears 
 in rest, 
 
 A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow- 
 white crest; 
 
 And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a 
 guiding star. 
 
 Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Na- 
 varre. 
 
 Now God be praised, the day is ours ! Mayenne hath 
 turned his rein, 
 D'Aumale hath cried for quarter — the Flemish Count 
 
 is slain, 
 Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay 
 
 gale; 
 The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and 
 cloven mail ; 
 
 171 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 And then we thought on vengeance, and all along our 
 
 van, 
 " Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man 
 
 to man; 
 But out spake gentle Henry then, " No Frenchman is 
 
 my foe; 
 Down, down with every foreigner; but let your brethren 
 
 go." 
 Oh ! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, 
 As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Na- 
 varre ! 
 
 Ho ! maidens of Vienna ! Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ! 
 
 Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never 
 shall return: 
 
 Ho! Philip, send for charity, thy Mexican pistoles. 
 
 That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor 
 spearmen's souls ! 
 
 Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms 
 be bright! 
 
 Ho ! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to- 
 night! 
 
 For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath 
 raised the slave, 
 
 And mocked the counsel of the wise and the valor of the 
 brave. 
 
 Then glory to his holy name, from whom all glories are; 
 
 And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of Navarre. 
 
THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 
 
 BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON 
 
 [In 1 591, three years after the defeat of the Invincible 
 Armada, an English squadron was lying at the Azores to 
 intercept treasure ships bringing back gold from the New 
 World when a powerful Spanish fleet sailed into the bay. 
 All of the English ships escaped but one, the Revenge. Her 
 commander. Sir Richard Grenville, delayed until he could 
 get his sick men aboard, and then tried to fight his way out 
 
 alone. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 I 
 
 At Floras in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay. 
 
 And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far 
 away: 
 
 "Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fifty- 
 three!" 
 
 Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: "'Fore God I am 
 no coward! 
 
 But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out 
 of gear. 
 
 And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow 
 quick. 
 
 We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty- 
 three?" 
 
 n 
 
 Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are 
 
 no coward; 
 You fly them for a moment to fight with them again. 
 But I Ve ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore. 
 
 173 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 I should count myself the coward if I left them, my 
 
 Lord Howard, 
 To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain." 
 
 Ill 
 
 So Lord Howard passed away with five ships of war 
 
 that day. 
 Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven ; 
 But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the 
 
 land 
 Very carefully and slow, 
 Men of Bideford in Devon, 
 And we laid them on the ballast down below ; 
 For we brought them all aboard, 
 And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left 
 
 to Spain, 
 To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the 
 
 Lord. 
 
 IV 
 
 He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to 
 
 fight, 
 And he sail'd away from Flores till the Spaniard came 
 
 in sight. 
 With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather 
 
 bow. 
 ''Shall we fight or shall we fly? 
 Good Sir Richard, let us know, 
 For to fight is but to die! 
 
 There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." 
 And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good Enghsh 
 
 men. 
 
 174 
 
THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 
 
 Let us hang these dogs of Seville, the children of the 
 
 Devil, 
 For I never turn'd my back upon Don or Devil yet." 
 
 V 
 
 Sir Richard spoke, and he laugh'd, and we roared a 
 
 hurrah, and so 
 The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe, 
 With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick 
 
 below ; 
 For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left 
 
 were seen, 
 And the little Revenge ran on thro' the long sea-lane 
 
 between. 
 
 VI 
 
 Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their 
 decks and laugh'd, 
 
 Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little 
 craft 
 
 Running on and on, till delay'd 
 
 By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hun- 
 dred tons, 
 
 And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers 
 of guns, 
 
 Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd. 
 
 vn 
 
 And while now the great San Philip hung above us 
 
 like a cloud 
 Whence the thunderbolt will fall 
 Long and loud, 
 
 I7S 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Four galleons drew away 
 From the Spanish fleet that day, 
 And two upon the larboard and two upon the star- 
 board lay, 
 And the battle-thunder broke from them all. 
 
 vni 
 
 But anon the great San Philip she bethought herself 
 and went, 
 
 Having that within her womb that had left her ill- 
 content; 
 
 And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us 
 hand to hand. 
 
 For a dozen times they came with their pikes and mus- 
 queteers. 
 
 And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes 
 his ears 
 
 When he leaps from the water to the land. 
 
 IX 
 
 And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over 
 the summer sea. 
 
 But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the 
 fifty- three. 
 
 Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built 
 galleons came, 
 
 Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle- 
 thunder and flame; 
 
 Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with 
 her dead and her shame. 
 
 For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so 
 could fight us no more — 
 
 176 
 
THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 
 
 God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world 
 before? 
 
 For he said, "Fight on! fight on!" 
 
 Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck; 
 
 And it chanced that, when half of the summer night was 
 
 gone. 
 With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck. 
 But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly 
 
 dead, 
 And himself he was wounded again in the side and the 
 
 head. 
 And he said, "Fight on! fight on!" 
 
 XI 
 
 And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far 
 
 over the summer sea. 
 And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all 
 
 in a ring; 
 But they dared not touch us again, for they fear'd that 
 
 we still could sting, 
 So they watch'd what the end would be. 
 And we had not fought them in vain, 
 But in perilous plight were we. 
 Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, 
 And half of the rest of us maim'd for life 
 In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; 
 And the sick men down in the hold were most of them 
 
 stark and cold, 
 And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder 
 
 was all of it spent; 
 
 177 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 And the masts and rigging were Ijang over the side; 
 
 But Sir Richard cried in his EngHsh pride: 
 
 "We have fought such a fight for a day and a night 
 
 As may never be fought again ! 
 
 We have won great glory, my men! 
 
 And a day less or more, 
 
 At sea or ashore. 
 
 We die — does it matter when? 
 
 Sink me the ship, Master Gunner — sink her, split her 
 
 in twain! 
 Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain ! " 
 
 XII 
 
 And the gunner said, "Aye, aye," but the seamen made 
 
 reply : 
 "We have children, we have wives. 
 And the Lord hath spared our lives. 
 We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let 
 
 us go; 
 We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow." 
 And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe. 
 
 XIII 
 
 And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him 
 
 then, 
 Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught 
 
 at last, 
 And they praised him to his face with their courtly 
 
 foreign grace; 
 But he rose upon their decks, and he cried : 
 "I have fought for Queen and Faith like a vaHant man 
 
 and true; 
 
 178 
 
THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 
 
 I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do; 
 With a joyful spirit I, Sir Richard Granville, die!" 
 And he fell upon their decks, and he died. 
 
 XIV 
 
 And they stared at the dead that had been so vahant 
 
 and true, 
 And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap 
 That he dared her with one little ship and his English 
 
 few; 
 Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew, 
 But they sank his body with honor down into the deep, 
 And they mann'd the Revenge with a swarthier alien 
 
 crew. 
 And away she sail'd with her loss and long'd for her own: 
 When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from 
 
 sleep, 
 And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, 
 And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, 
 And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earth- 
 quake grew. 
 Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts 
 
 and their flags. 
 And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shatter'd 
 
 navy of Spain, 
 And the little Revenge herself went down by the island 
 
 crags 
 To be lost evermore in the main. 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 [1599] 
 
 BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS 
 
 Some of the most characteristic heroisms and hardships 
 of the pioneers in our domain cluster about the won- 
 drous rock of Acoma, the strange sky-city of the Queres 
 Pueblos. All the Pueblo cities were built in positions 
 which Nature herself had fortified, — a necessity of the 
 times, since they were surrounded by outnumbering 
 hordes of the deadliest warriors in history; but Acoma 
 was most secure of all. In the midst of a long valley, 
 four miles wide, itself lined by almost insurmountable 
 precipices, towers a lofty rock, whose top is about 
 seventy acres in area, and whose walls, three hundred 
 and fifty-seven feet high, are not merely perpendicular, 
 but in most places even overhanging. Upon its summit 
 was perched — and is to-day — the dizzy city of the 
 Queres. The few paths to the top — whereon a misstep 
 will roll the victim to horrible death, hundreds of feet 
 below — are by wild, precipitous clefts, at the head of 
 which one determined man, with no other weapons 
 than stones, could almost hold at bay an army. 
 
 This strange aerial town was first heard of by Euro- 
 peans in 1539, when Fray Marcos, the discoverer of 
 New Mexico, was told by the people of Cibola of the 
 great rock fortress of Hakuque, — their name for 
 Acoma, which the natives themselves call Ahko. In the 
 following year Coronado visited it with his httle army, 
 
 180 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 and has left us an accurate account of its wonders. 
 These first Europeans were well received there; and the 
 superstitious natives, who had never seen a beard or a 
 white face before, took the strangers for gods. But it 
 was more than half a century later yet before the Span- 
 iards sought a foothold there. 
 
 When Onate entered New Mexico in 1598, he met no 
 immediate resistance whatever; for his force of four 
 hundred people, including two hundred men-at-arms, 
 was large enough to awe the Indians. They were natu- 
 rally hostile to these invaders of their domain; but find- 
 ing themselves well treated by the strangers, and fearful 
 of open war against these men with hard clothes, who 
 killed from afar with their thunder-sticks, the Pueblos 
 awaited results. The Queres, Tigua, and Jemez branches 
 formally submitted to Spanish rule, and took the oath 
 of allegiance to the Crown by their representative men 
 gathered at the pueblo of Guipuy (now Santo Domingo) ; 
 as also did the Tanos, Picuries, Tehuas, and Taos, at a 
 similar conference at the pueblo of San Juan, in Septem- 
 ber, 1598. At this ready submission Ofiate was greatly 
 encouraged; and he decided to visit all the principal 
 pueblos in person, to make them securer subjects of his 
 sovereign. He had founded already the first town in 
 New Mexico and the second in the United States, — 
 San Gabriel de los Espaiioles, where Chamita stands 
 to-day. Before starting on this perilous journey, he 
 dispatched Juan de Zaldivar, his maestro de campo,^ 
 with fifty men to explore the vast, unknown plains to 
 the east, and then to follow him. 
 
 Onate and a small force left the lonely little Spanish 
 
 * Equivalent to our colonel. 
 181 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 colony, — more than a thousand miles from any other 
 town of civilized men, — October 6, 1598. First he 
 marched to the pueblos in the great plains of the Salt 
 Lakes, east of the Manzano mountains, — a thirsty 
 journey of more than two hundred miles. Then return- 
 ing to the pueblo of Puaray (opposite the present 
 Bernalillo), he turned westward. On the 27th of the 
 same month he camped at the foot of the lofty cliffs of 
 Acoma. The principales (chief men) of the town came 
 down from the rock, and took the solemn pledge of 
 allegiance to the Spanish Crown. They were thoroughly 
 warned of the deep importance and meaning of this step, 
 and that if they violated their oath they would be 
 regarded and treated as rebels against His Majesty; 
 but they fully pledged themselves to be faithful vassals. 
 They were very friendly, and repeatedly invited the 
 Spanish commander and his men to visit their sky-city. 
 In truth, they had had spies at the conferences in Santo 
 Domingo and San Juan, and had decided that the most 
 dangerous man among the invaders was Onate himself. 
 If he could be slain, they thought the rest of the pale 
 strangers might be easily routed. 
 
 But Onate knew nothing of their intended treachery; 
 and on the following day he and his handful of men — 
 leaving only a guard with the horses — climbed one of 
 the breathless stone "ladders," and stood in Acoma. 
 The officious Indians piloted them hither and yon, show- 
 ing them the strange terraced houses of many stories 
 in height, the great reservoirs in the eternal rock, and 
 the dizzy brink which everywhere surrounded the eyrie 
 of a town. At last they brought the Spaniards to where a 
 huge ladder, projecting far aloft through a trapdoor in 
 
 182 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 the roof of a large house, indicated the estufa, or sacred 
 council-chamber. The visitors mounted to the roof by 
 a smaller ladder, and the Indians tried to have Onate 
 descend through the trapdoor. But the Spanish gover- 
 nor, noting that all was dark in the room below, and 
 suddenly becoming suspicious, declined to enter; and 
 as his soldiers were all about, the Indians did not insist. 
 After a short visit in the pueblo the Spaniards descended 
 the rock to their camp, and thence marched away on 
 their long and dangerous journey to Moqui and Zufii. 
 That swift flash of prudence in Onate's mind saved the 
 history of New Mexico; for in that dark estufa was lying 
 a band of armed warriors. Had he entered the room, he 
 would have been slain at once; and his death was to be 
 the signal for a general onslaught upon the Spaniards, 
 all of whom must have perished in the unequal fight. 
 
 Returning from his march of exploration through the 
 trackless and deadly plains, Juan de Zaldivar left San 
 Gabriel on the i8th of November, to follow his com- 
 mander-in-chief. He had but thirty men. Reaching the 
 foot of the City in the Sky on the 4th of December, he 
 was very kindly received by the Acomas, who invited 
 him up into their town. Juan was a good soldier, as 
 well as a gallant one, and well used to the tricks of 
 Indian warfare; but for the first time in his life — and 
 the last — he now let himself be deceived. Leaving half 
 his little force at the foot of the cliff to guard the camp 
 and horses, he himself went up with sixteen men. The 
 town was so full of wonders, the people so cordial, that 
 the visitors soon forgot whatever suspicions they may 
 have had; and by degrees they scattered hither and yon 
 to see the strange sights. The natives had been waiting 
 
 183 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 only for this; and when the war-chief gave the wild 
 whoop, men, women, and children seized rocks and 
 clubs, bows and flint-knives, and fell furiously upon the 
 scattered Spaniards. It was a ghastly and an unequal 
 fight the winter sun looked down upon that bitter 
 afternoon in the cliff-city. Here and there, with back 
 against the wall of one of those strange houses, stood a 
 gray-faced, tattered, bleeding soldier, swinging his 
 clumsy flintlock club-like, or hacking with desperate but 
 unavailing sword at the dark, ravenous mob that 
 hemmed him, while stones rained upon his bent visor, 
 and clubs and cruel flints sought him from every side. 
 There was no coward blood among that doomed band. 
 They sold their lives dearly; in front of every one lay a 
 sprawling heap of dead. But one by one the howling 
 wave of barbarians drowned each grim, silent fighter, 
 and swept off to swell the murderous flood about the 
 next. Zaldivar himself was one of the first victims; and 
 two other officers, six soldiers, and two servants fell 
 in that uneven combat. The five survivors — Juan 
 Tabaro, who was alguacil-mayor , with four soldiers — 
 got 'at last together, and with superhuman strength 
 fought their way to the edge of the clifi", bleeding from 
 many wounds. But their savage foes still pressed them; 
 and being too faint to carve their way to one of the 
 "ladders," in the wfldness of desperation the five sprang 
 over the beetling cliff. 
 
 Never but once was recorded so frightful a leap as 
 that of Tabaro and his four companions. Even if we pre- 
 sume that they had been so fortunate as to reach the 
 very lowest point of the rock, it could not have been less 
 than one hvmdred and fifty feet! And yet only one of 
 
 184 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 the five was killed by this inconceivable fall; the remain- 
 ing four, cared for by their terrified companions in the 
 camp, all finally recovered. It would be incredible, were 
 it not established by absolute historical proof. It is 
 probable that they fell upon one of the moimds of white 
 sand which the winds had drifted against the foot of the 
 cliffs in places. 
 
 Fortunately, the victorious savages did not attack 
 the little camp. The survivors still had their horses, of 
 which unknown brutes the Indians had a great fear. 
 For several days the fourteen soldiers and their four 
 half-dead companions camped under the overhanging 
 cliff, where they were safe from missiles from above, 
 hourly expecting an onslaught from the savages. They 
 felt sure that this massacre of their comrades was but 
 the prelude to a general uprising of the twenty-five or 
 thirty thousand Pueblos; and regardless of the danger to 
 themselves, they decided at last to break up into little 
 bands, and separate, — some to follow their commander 
 on his lonely march to Moqui, and warn him of his 
 danger; and others to hasten over the hundreds of arid 
 miles to San Gabriel and the defense of its women and 
 babes, and to the missionaries who had scattered among 
 the savages. This plan of self-devotion was successfully 
 carried out. The little bands of three and four apiece 
 bore the news to their countrymen; and by the end 
 of the year 1598 all the surviving Spaniards in New 
 Mexico were safely gathered in the hamlet of San 
 Gabriel. The little town was built pueblo-fashion, in 
 the shape of a hollow square. In the plaza within were 
 planted the rude pedreros — small howitzers which fired 
 a ball of stone — to command the gates; and upon the 
 
 i8s 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 roofs of the three-story adobe houses the brave women 
 watched by day, and the men with their heavy flintlocks 
 all through the winter nights, to guard against the 
 expected attack. But the Pueblos rested on their arms. 
 They were waiting to see what Onate would do with 
 Acoma, before they took final measures against the 
 strangers. 
 
 It was a most serious dilemma in which Onate now 
 found himself. One need not have known half so much 
 about the Indian character as did this gray, quiet 
 Spaniard, to understand that he must signally punish 
 the rebels for the massacre of his men, or abandon his 
 colony and New Mexico altogether. If such an outrage 
 went unpunished, the emboldened Pueblos would de- 
 stroy the last Spaniard. On the other hand, how could 
 he hope to conquer that impregnable fortress of rock? 
 He had less than two hundred men; and only a small 
 part of these could be spared for the campaign, lest the 
 other Pueblos in their absence should rise and annihilate 
 San Gabriel and its people. In Acoma there were full 
 three himdred warriors, reinforced by at least a hundred 
 Navajo braves. 
 
 But there was no alternative. The more he reflected 
 and counseled with his ofiicers, the more apparent it 
 became that the only salvation was to capture the 
 Queres Gibraltar; and the plan was decided upon. 
 Onate naturally desired to lead in person this forlornest 
 of forlorn hopes; but there was one who had even a 
 better claim to the desperate honor than the captain- 
 general, — and that one was the forgotten hero Vicente 
 de Zaldivar, brother of the murdered Juan. He was 
 sargento-mayor of the little army; and when he came to 
 
 1 86 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 Onate and begged to be given the command of the 
 expedition against Acoma, there was no saying him nay. 
 
 On the 1 2th of January, 1599, Vicente de Zaldivar 
 left San Gabriel at the head of seventy men. Only a few 
 of them had even the clumsy flintlocks of the day; the 
 majority were not arquebusiers but piquiers, armed only 
 with swords and lances, and clad in jackets of quilted 
 cotton or battered mail. One small pedrero, lashed upon 
 the back of a horse, was the only "artillery." 
 
 Silently and sternly the little force made its arduous 
 march. All knew that impregnable rock, and few cher- 
 ished an expectation of returning from so desperate a 
 mission; but there was no thought of turning back. On 
 the afternoon of the eleventh day the tired soldiers 
 passed the last intervening mesa, and came in sight of 
 Acoma. The Indians, warned by their runners, were 
 ready to receive them. The whole population, with the 
 Navajo allies, were under arms, on the housetops and 
 the commanding cliffs. Naked savages, painted black, 
 leaped from crag to crag, screeching defiance and heap- 
 ing insults upon the Spaniards. The medicine-men, 
 hideously disguised, stood on projecting pinnacles, 
 beating their drums and scattering curses and incanta- 
 tions to the winds; and all the populace joined in derisive 
 howls and taunts. 
 
 Zaldivar halted his little band as close to the foot of 
 the cliff as he could without danger. The indispensable 
 notary stepped from the ranks, and at the blast of the 
 trumpet proceeded to read at the top of his lungs the 
 formal summons in the name of the King of Spain to 
 surrender. Thrice he shouted through the summons; 
 but each time his voice was drowned by the howls and 
 
 187 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 shrieks of the enraged savages, and a hail of stones and 
 arrows fell dangerously near. Zaldivar had desired to 
 secure the surrender of the pueblo, demand the delivery 
 to him of the ringleaders in the massacre, and take them 
 back with him to San Gabriel for official trial and pun- 
 ishment; without harm to the other people of Acoma; 
 but the savages, secure in their grim fortress, mocked 
 the merciful appeal. It was clear that Acoma must be 
 stormed. The Spaniards camped on the bare sands and 
 passed the night — made hideous by the sounds of a 
 monster war-dance in the town — in gloomy plans for 
 the morrow. 
 
 At daybreak, on the morning of January 22, Zaldivar 
 gave the signal for the attack; and the main body of the 
 Spaniards began firing their few arquebuses, and making 
 a desperate assault at the north end of the great rock, 
 there absolutely impregnable. The Indians, crowded 
 along the cliffs above, poured down a rain of missiles; 
 and many of the Spaniards were wounded. Meanwhile 
 twelve picked men, who had hidden during the night 
 under the overhanging cliff which protected them alike 
 from the fire and the observation of the Indians, were 
 crawling stealthily around under the precipice, dragging 
 the pedrero by ropes. Most of these twelve were arque- 
 busiers; and besides the weight of the ridiculous little 
 cannon, they had their ponderous flintlocks and their 
 clumsy armor, — poor helps for scaling heights which the 
 unencumbered athlete finds difficult. Pursuing their toil- 
 some way unobserved, pulling one another and then the 
 pedrero up the ledges, they reached at last the top of a 
 great outlying pinnacle of rock, separated from the main 
 cliff of Acoma by a narrow but awful chasm. Late in 
 
 188 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 the afternoon they had their howitzer trained upon the 
 town; and the loud report, as its cobble-stone ball flew 
 into Acoma, signaled the main body at the north end of 
 the mesa that the first vantage-ground had been safely 
 gamed, and, at the same time warned the savages of 
 danger from a new quarter. 
 
 That night little squads of Spaniards climbed the 
 great precipices which wall the trough-like valley on 
 east and west, cut down small pines, and with infinite 
 labor dragged the logs down the cliffs, across the valley, 
 and up the butte on which the twelve were stationed. 
 About a score of men were left to guard the horses at 
 the north end of the mesa; and the rest of the force 
 joined the twelve, hiding behind the crags of their rock- 
 tower. Across the chasm the Indians were lying in 
 crevices, or behind rocks, awaiting the attack. 
 
 At daybreak of the 23d, a squad of picked men at a 
 given signal rushed from their hiding-places with a log 
 on their shoulders, and by a lucky cast lodged its farther 
 end on the opposite brink of the abyss. Out dashed the 
 Spaniards at their heels, and began balancing across 
 that dizzy "bridge" in the face of a volley of stones 
 and arrows. A very few had crossed, when one in his 
 excitement caught the rope and pulled the log across 
 after him. 
 
 It was a fearful moment. There were less than a 
 dozen Spaniards thus left standing alone on the brink 
 of Acoma, cut off from their companions by a gulf 
 hundreds of feet deep, and surrounded by swarming sav- 
 ages. The Indians, sallying from their refuge, fell in- 
 stantly upon them on every hand. As long as the Span- 
 ish soldier could keep the Indians at a distance, even his 
 
 189 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 clumsy firearms and inefficient armor gave an advantage; 
 but at such close quarters these very things were a fatal 
 impediment by their weight and clumsiness. Now it 
 seemed as if the previous Acoma massacre were to be 
 repeated, and the cut-off Spaniards to be hacked to 
 pieces; but at this very crisis a deed of surpassing per- 
 sonal valor saved them and the cause of Spain in New 
 Mexico. A slender, bright-faced young oflQcer, a college 
 boy who was a special friend and favorite of Onate, 
 sprang from the crowd of dismayed Spaniards on the 
 farther bank, who dared not fire into that indiscriminate 
 jostle of friend and foe, and came running like a deer 
 toward the chasm. As he reached its brink his lithe 
 body gathered itself, sprang into the air like a bird, and 
 cleared the gulf! Seizing the log, he thrust it back with 
 desperate strength until his companions could grasp it 
 from the farther brink; and over the restored bridge the 
 Spanish soldiers poured to retrieve the day. 
 
 Then began one of the most fearful hand-to-hand 
 struggles in all American history. Outnumbered nearly 
 ten to one, lost in a howling mob of savages who fought 
 with the frenzy of despair, gashed with raw-edged 
 knives, dazed with crushing clubs, pierced with bristling 
 arrows, spent and faint and bleeding, Zaldivar and his 
 hero-handful fought their way inch by inch, step by 
 step, clubbing their heavy guns, hewing with their short 
 swords, parrying deadly blows, pulling the barbed 
 arrows from their quivering flesh. On, on, on they 
 pressed, shouting the gallant war-cry of Santiago, driv- 
 ing the stubborn foe before them by still more stubborn 
 valor, until at last the Indians, fully convinced that 
 these were no human foes, fled to the refuge of their 
 
 190 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 fort-like houses, and there was room for the reeling 
 Spaniards to draw breath. Then thrice again the sum- 
 mons to surrender was duly read before the strange 
 tenements, each near a thousand feet long, and looking 
 like a flight of gigantic steps carved from one rock. 
 Zaldivar even now wished to spare unnecessary blood- 
 shed, and demanded only that the assassins of his 
 brother and countrymen should be given up for punish- 
 ment. All others who should surrender and become 
 subjects of *'Our Lord the King" should be well treated. 
 But the dogged Indians, like wounded wolves in their 
 den, stuck in their barricaded houses, and refused all 
 terms of peace. 
 
 The rock was captured, but the town remained. A 
 pueblo is a fortress in itself; and now Zaldivar had to 
 storm Acoma house by house and room by room. The 
 little pedrero was dragged in front of the first row of 
 houses, and soon began to deliver its slow fire. As the 
 adobe walls crumbled imder the steady battering of the 
 stone cannon-balls, they only formed great barricades 
 of clay, which even our modem artillery would not 
 pierce; and each had to be carried separately at the 
 point of the sword. Some of the fallen houses caught 
 fire from their own f agones ; ^ and soon a stifling smoke 
 hung over the town, from which issued the shrieks of 
 women and babes and the defiant yells of the warriors. 
 The humane Zaldivar made every effort to save the 
 women and children, at great risk of self; but numbers 
 perished beneath the falhng walls of their own houses. 
 
 This fearful storming lasted until noon of January 24. 
 Now and then bands of warriors made sorties, and tried 
 
 ^ Fireplaces. 
 191 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 to cut their way through the Spanish line. Many sprang 
 in desperation over the clifif, and were dashed to pieces 
 at its foot; and two Indians who made that incredible 
 leap survived it as miraculously as had the four Span- 
 iards in the earlier massacre, and made their escape. 
 
 At last, at noon of the third day, the old men came 
 forth to sue for mercy, which was at once granted. The 
 moment they surrendered, their rebellion was forgotten 
 and their treachery forgiven. There was no need of 
 further punishment. The ringleaders in the murder of 
 Zaldivar's brother were all dead, and so were nearly all 
 the Navajo allies. It was the most bloody struggle New 
 Mexico ever saw. In this three days' fight the Indians 
 lost five hundred slain and many wounded; and of the 
 surviving Spaniards not one but bore to his grave many 
 a ghastly scar as mementos of Acoma. The town was 
 so nearly destroyed that it had all to be rebuilt; and the 
 infinite labor with which the patient people had brought 
 up that cliff on their backs all the stones and timber and 
 clay to build a many-storied town for nearly a thousand 
 souls was all to be repeated. Their crops, too, and all 
 other supplies, stored in dark little rooms of the terraced 
 houses, had been destroyed, and they were in sore want. 
 Truly a bitter punishment had been sent them by 
 "those above" for their treachery to Juan de Zaldivar. 
 
 When his men had sufficiently recovered from their 
 wounds, Vicente de Zaldivar, the leader of probably the 
 most wonderful capture in history, marched victorious 
 back to San Gabriel de los Espanoles, taking with him 
 eighty young Acoma girls, whom he sent to be educated 
 by the nuns in Old Mexico. What a shout must have 
 gone up from the gray walls of the little colony when its 
 
 192 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 anxious watchers saw at last the wan and unexpected 
 tatters of its Httle army pricking slowly homeward 
 across the snows on jaded steeds! 
 
 The rest of the Pueblos, who had been lying demure 
 as cats, with claws sheathed, but every lithe muscle 
 ready to spring, were fairly paralyzed with awe. They 
 had looked to see the Spaniards defeated, if not crushed, 
 at Acoma; and then a swift rising of all the tribes 
 would have made short work of the remaining invaders. 
 But now the impossible had happened! Anko, the 
 proud sky-city of the Queres; A^o, the cliff-girt and 
 impregnable, — had fallen before the pale strangers! 
 Its brave warriors had come to naught, its strong houses 
 were a chaos of smoking ruins, its wealth was gone, its 
 people nearly wiped from off the earth! What use to 
 struggle against "such men of power," — these strange 
 wizards who must be precious to "those above," else 
 they never could have such superhuman prowess? The 
 strong sinews relaxed, and the great cat began to purr 
 as though she had never dreamed of mousing. There 
 was no more thought of a rebellion against the Spaniards ; 
 and the Indians even went out of their way to court the 
 favor of these awesome strangers. They brought Onate 
 the news of the fall of Acoma several days before 
 Zaldivar and his heroes got back to the little colony, 
 and even were mean enough to deliver to him two 
 Queres refugees from that dread field who had sought 
 shelter among them. Thenceforth Governor Onate had 
 no more trouble with the Pueblos. 
 
 But Acoma itself seemed to take the lesson to heart 
 less than any of them. Too crushed and broken to think 
 of further war with its invincible foes, it still remained 
 
 193 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 bitterly hostile to the Spaniards for full thirty years, 
 until it was again conquered by a heroism as splendid 
 as Zaldivar's, though in a far different way. 
 
 In 1629, Fray Juan Ramirez, " the Apostle of Acoma," 
 left Santa Fe alone to found a mission in that lofty 
 home of fierce barbarians. An escort of soldiers was 
 offered him, but he declined it, and started unaccom- 
 panied and on foot, with no other weapon than his 
 crucifix. Tramping his footsore and dangerous way, he 
 came after many days to the foot of the great "island" 
 of rock, and began the ascent. As soon as the savages 
 saw a stranger of the hated people, they rallied to the 
 brink of the cliff and poured down a great flight of 
 arrows, some of which pierced his robes. Just then a 
 little girl of Acoma, who was standing on the edge of the 
 cliff, grew frightened at the wild actions of her people, 
 and losing her balance tumbled over the precipice. By a 
 strange providence she fell but a few yards, and landed 
 on a sandy ledge near the fray, but out of sight of her 
 people, who presumed that she had fallen the whole 
 height of the cliff. Fray Juan climbed to her, and carried 
 her unhurt to the top of the rock; and seeing this appar- 
 ent miracle, the savages were disarmed, and received 
 him as a good wizard. The good man dwelt alone there 
 in Acoma for more than twenty years, loved by the 
 natives as a father, and teaching his swarthy converts so 
 successfully that in time many knew their catechism, 
 and could read and write in Spanish. Besides, under his 
 direction they built a large church with enormous labor. 
 When he died, in 1664, the Acomas from being the 
 fiercest Indians had become the gentlest in New Mexico, 
 and were among the farthest advanced in civilization. 
 
 194 
 
THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 
 
 But a few years after his death came the uprising of all 
 the Pueblos; and in the long and disastrous wars which 
 followed the church was destroyed, and the fruits of the 
 hrsiye fray's work largely disappeared. In that rebellion 
 Fray Lucas Maldonado, who was then the missionary to 
 Acoma, was butchered by his flock on the loth oriith 
 of August, 1680. In November, 1692, Acoma volun- 
 tarily surrendered to the reconqueror of New Mexico, 
 Diego de Vargas. Within a few years, however, it 
 rebelled again; and in August, 1696, Vargas marched 
 against it, but was unable to storm the rock. But by 
 degrees the Pueblos grew to lasting peace with the hu- 
 mane conquerors, and to merit the kindness which was 
 steadily proffered them. The mission at Acoma was 
 reestablished about the year 1700; and there stands to- 
 day a huge church which is one of the most interesting 
 in the world, by reason of the infinite labor and patience 
 which built it. The last attempt at a Pueblo uprising 
 was in 1828; but Acoma was not implicated in it at all. 
 The strange stone stairway, by which Fray Juan 
 Ramirez climbed first to his dangerous parish in the 
 teeth of a storm of arrows, is used by the people of Acoma 
 to this day, and is still called by them el camino del 
 padre (the path of the father). 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
 [1632] 
 
 BY JOHANN CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER 
 
 [During the Thirty Years' War, in Germany, the Protes- 
 tants had long hoped that Gustavus Adolphus, King of 
 Sweden, would become their leader; but he felt that he must 
 first care for the needs of his country. At length, however, 
 the time came when he saw that his own land was in danger. 
 Then he led his army into Germany, and there he was joined 
 by the allied forces of the Protestant princes. At Liitzen he 
 met the troops of the Austrian Emperor under Wallenstein. 
 On the outcome of this battle depended the fate of Protes- 
 tant Germany. 
 
 The Editor. \ 
 
 At last the fateful morning dawned ; but an impenetra- 
 ble fog, which spread over the plain, delayed the attack 
 till noon. KJneeling in front of his lines, the king oflfered 
 up his devotions; and the whole army, at the same mo- 
 ment dropping on their knees, burst into a moving 
 h3rmn, accompanied by the military music. The king 
 then mounted his horse, and, clad only in a leathern 
 doublet and surtout (for a wound he had formerly re- 
 ceived prevented his wearing armor), rode along the 
 ranks, to animate the courage of his troops with a joyful 
 confidence, which, however, the foreboding presenti- 
 ment of his own bosom contradicted. " God with us! " 
 was the war-cry of the Swedes; "Jesus Maria!" that of 
 the imperialists. About eleven the fog began to dis- 
 perse, and the enemy became visible. At the same mo- 
 
 196 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
 
 ment Liitzen was seen in flames, having been set on 
 fire by command of the duke, to prevent his being 
 outflanked on that side. The charge was now sounded ; 
 the cavalry rushed upon the enemy, and the infantry 
 advanced against the trenches. 
 
 Received by a tremendous fire of musketry and heavy 
 artillery, these intrepid battalions maintained the at- 
 tack with undaimted courage, till the enemy's musket- 
 eers abandoned their posts, the trenches were passed, 
 the battery carried and turned against the enemy. They 
 pressed forward with irresistible impetuosity; the first 
 of the five imperial brigades was immediately routed, 
 the second soon after, and the third put to flight. But 
 here the genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to their 
 progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the 
 spot to rally his discomfited troops; and his powerful 
 word was itself sufficient to stop the flight of the fugi- 
 tives. Supported by three regiments of cavalry, the 
 vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the enemy, 
 and pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the 
 Swedes. A murderous conflict ensued. The nearness 
 of the enemy left no room for firearms, the fury of the 
 attack no time for loading; man was matched to man, 
 the useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, 
 and science gave way to desperation. Overpowered by 
 numbers, the wearied Swedes at last retired beyond the 
 trenches; and the captured battery is again lost by the 
 retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed 
 the plain, and as yet not a single step of ground had 
 been won. 
 
 In the mean time the king's right wing, led by him- 
 self, had fallen upon the enemy's left. The first impet- 
 
 197 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 uous shock of the heavy Finland cuirassiers dispersed 
 the lightly mounted Poles and Croats, who were posted 
 here, and their disorderly flight spread terror and con- 
 fusion among the rest of the cavalry. At this moment 
 notice was brought the king, that his infantry were re- 
 treating over the trenches, and also that his left wing, 
 exposed to a severe fire from the enemy's cannon posted 
 at the windmills, was beginning to give way. With 
 rapid decision he committed to General Horn the pur- 
 suit of the enemy's left, while he flew, at the head of the 
 regiment of Steinbock, to repair the disorder of his right 
 wing. His noble charger bore him with the velocity of 
 lightning across the trenches, but the squadrons that 
 followed could not come on with the same speed, and 
 only a few horsemen, among whom was Francis Albert, 
 Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg, were able to keep up with the 
 king. He rode directly to the place where his infantry 
 were most closely pressed, and while he was reconnoi- 
 tering the enemy's line for an exposed point of attack, the 
 shortness of his sight unfortunately led him too close to 
 their ranks. An imperial gefreyter [corporal], remarking 
 that every one respectfully made way for him as he rode 
 along, immediately ordered a musketeer to take aim at 
 him. "Fire at him yonder," said he; "that must be a 
 man of consequence." The soldier fired, and the king's 
 left arm was shattered. At that moment his squadron 
 came hurrying up, and a confused cry of "The king 
 bleeds! the king is shot!" spread terror and conster- 
 nation through all the ranks. "It is nothing — follow 
 me," cried the king, collecting his whole strength; but 
 overcome by. pain, and nearly fainting, he requested 
 the Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to lead him xmob- 
 
 198 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
 
 served out of the tumult. While the duke proceeded to- 
 ward the right wing with the king, making a long circuit 
 to keep this discouraging sight from the disordered 
 infantry, his Majesty received a second shot through 
 the back, which deprived him of his remaining strength. 
 "Brother," said he, with a dying voice, "I have enough! 
 look only to your own life." At the same moment he 
 fell from his horse pierced by several more shots; and 
 abandoned by all his attendants, he breathed his last 
 amid the plundering hands of the Croats. His charger, 
 flying without its rider, and covered with blood, soon 
 made known to the Swedish cavalry the fall of their 
 king. They rushed madly forward to rescue his sacred 
 remains from the hands of the enemy. A murderous 
 conflict ensued over the body, till his mangled remains 
 were buried beneath a heap of slain. 
 
 The mournful tidings soon ran through the Swedish 
 army; but, instead of destroying the courage of those 
 brave troops, it but excited it into a new, a wild, a con- 
 suming flame. Life had lessened in value, now that the 
 most sacred life of all was gone; death had no terrors for 
 the lowly, since the anointed head was not spared. With 
 the fury of lions the Upland, Smaland, Finland, East 
 and West Gothland regiments rushed a second time 
 upon the left wing of the enemy, which, already making 
 but feeble resistance to General Horn, was now entirely 
 beaten from the field. Bernard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 
 gave to the bereaved Swedes a noble leader in his own 
 person; and the spirit of Gustavus led his victorious 
 squadrons anew. The left wing quickly formed again, 
 and vigorously pressed the right of the imperialists. 
 The artiflery at the windmills, which had maintained 
 
 199 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 so murderous a fire upon the Swedes, was captured and 
 turned against the enemy. The center, also, of the 
 Swedish infantry, commanded by the duke and Knyp- 
 hausen, advanced a second time against the trenches, 
 which they successfully passed, and retook the battery 
 of seven cannons. The attack was now renewed with 
 redoubled fury upon the heavy battalions of the ene- 
 my's center; their resistance became gradually less, and 
 chance conspired with Swedish valor to complete the 
 defeat. The imperial powder-wagons took fire, and, 
 with a tremendous explosion, grenades and bombs filled 
 the air. 
 
 The enemy, now in confusion, thought they were at- 
 tacked in the rear, while the Swedish brigades pressed 
 them in front. Their courage began to fail them. Their 
 left wing was already beaten, their right wavering, and 
 their artillery in the enemy's hands. The battle seemed 
 to be almost decided; another moment would decide the 
 fate of the day, when Pappenheim appeared on the field, 
 with his cuirassiers and dragoons; all the advantages 
 already gained were lost, and the battle was to be 
 fought anew. 
 
 The order which recalled that general to Liitzen had 
 reached him in Halle, while his troops were still plunder- 
 ing the town. It was impossible to collect the scattered 
 infantry with that rapidity, which the urgency of the 
 order and Pappenheim's impatience required. With- 
 out waiting for it, therefore, he ordered eight regiments 
 of cavalry to mount; and at their head he galloped at 
 full speed for Liitzen, to share in the battle. He arrived 
 in time to witness the flight of the imperial right wing, 
 which Gustavus Horn was driving from the field, and to 
 
 200 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
 
 be at first involved in their rout. But with rapid pres- 
 ence of mind he rallied the fl3dng troops, and led them 
 once more against the enemy. Carried away by his wild 
 bravery, and impatient to encounter the king, who he 
 supposed was at the head of this wing, he burst fu- 
 riously upon the Swedish ranks, which, exhausted by 
 victory, and inferior in numbers, were, after a noble 
 resistance, overpowered by this fresh body of enemies. 
 Pappenheim's unexpected appearance revived the 
 drooping courage of the imperiahsts, and the Duke of 
 Friedland quickly availed himself of the favorable mo- 
 ment to re-form his line. The closely serried battalions 
 of the Swedes were, after a tremendous conflict, again 
 driven across the trenches; and the battery, which had 
 been twice lost, again rescued from their hands. The 
 whole yellow regiment, the finest of all that distin- 
 guished themselves in this dreadful day, lay dead on the 
 field, covering the ground almost in the same excellent 
 order which, when alive, they maintained with such 
 unyielding courage. The same fate befell another regi- 
 ment of Blues, which Count Piccolomini attacked with 
 the imperial cavalry, and cut down after a desperate 
 contest. Seven times did this intrepid general renew 
 the attack; seven horses were shot under him and he 
 himself was pierced with six musket balls; yet he would 
 not leave the field, until he was carried along in the gen- 
 eral rout of the whole army. Wallenstein himself was 
 seen riding through his ranks with cool intrepidity, 
 amidst a shower of balls, assisting the distressed, en- 
 couraging the valiant with praise, and the wavering by 
 his fearful glance. Around and close by him his men 
 were falling thick, and his own mantle was perforated 
 
 20I 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 by several shots. But avenging destiny this day pro- 
 tected that breast, for which another weapon was re- 
 served; on the same field where the noble Gustavus 
 expired, Wallenstein was not allowed to terminate his 
 guilty career. 
 
 Less fortunate was Pappenheim, the Telamon of the 
 army, the bravest soldier of Austria and the Church. 
 An ardent desire to encounter the king in person, carried 
 this daring leader into the thickest of the fight, where he 
 thought his noble opponent was most surely to be met. 
 Gustavus had also expressed a wish to meet his brave 
 antagonist, but these hostile wishes remained ungrati- 
 fied ; death first brought together these tv/o great heroes. 
 Two musket-balls pierced the breast of Pappenheim; 
 and his men forcibly carried him from the field. While 
 they were conveying him to the rear, a murmur reached 
 him that he whom he had sought lay dead upon the 
 plain. When the truth of the report was confirmed to 
 him, his look became brighter, his dying eye sparkled 
 with a last gleam of Joy. "Tell the Duke of Friedland," 
 said he, "that I lie without hope of life, but that I die 
 happy, since I know that the implacable enemy of my 
 religion has fallen on the same day." 
 
 With Pappenheim, the good fortune of the imperial- 
 ists departed. The cavalry of the left wing, already 
 beaten, and only rallied by his exertions, no sooner 
 missed their victorious leader, than they gave up 
 everything for lost, and abandoned the field of battle in 
 spiritless despair. The right wing fell into the same con- 
 fusion, with the exception of a few regiments, which the 
 bravery of their colonels Gotz, Terzky, Colloredo, and 
 Piccolomini, compelled to keep their ground. The Swed- 
 
 202 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
 
 ish infantry, with prompt determination, profited by the 
 enemy's confusion. To fill up the gaps which death had 
 made in the front line, they formed both lines into one, 
 and with it made the final and decisive charge. A third 
 time they crossed the trenches, and a third time they 
 captured the battery. The sun was setting when the two 
 lines closed. The strife grew hotter as it drew to an end; 
 the last efforts of strength were mutually exerted, and 
 skill and courage did their utmost to repair in these 
 precious moments the fortune of the day. It was in 
 vain; despair endows every one with superhuman 
 strength; no one can conquer, no one will give way. 
 The art of war seemed to exhaust its powers on one side, 
 only to imfold some new and untried masterpiece of 
 skill on the other. Night and darkness at last put an 
 end to the fight, before the fury of the combatants was 
 exhausted; and the contest only ceased when no one 
 could any longer find an antagonist. Both armies sep- 
 arated, as if by tacit agreement; the trumpets sounded, 
 and each party claiming the victory, quitted the field. 
 The artillery on both sides, as the horses could not be 
 found, remained all night upon the field, at once the 
 reward and the evidence of victory to him who should 
 hold it. Wallenstein, in his haste to leave Leipzig and 
 Saxony, forgot to remove his part. Not long after the 
 battle was ended, Pappenheim's infantry, who had been 
 imable to follow the rapid movements of their general, 
 and who amounted to six regiments, marched on the 
 field, but the work was done. A few hours earlier, so 
 considerable a reinforcement would perhaps have de- 
 cided the day in favor of the imperialists; and, even 
 now, by remaining on the field, they might have saved 
 
 203 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the duke's artillery, and made a prize of that of the 
 Swedes. But they had received no orders to act; and, 
 uncertain as to the issue of the battle, they retired to 
 Leipzig, where they hoped to join the main body. 
 
 The Duke of Friedland had retreated thither, and 
 was followed on the morrow by the scattered remains of 
 his army, without artillery, without colors, and almost 
 without arms. The Duke of Weimar, it appears, after 
 the toils of this bloody day, allowed the Swedish army 
 some repose, between Liitzen and Weissenfels, near 
 enough to the field of battle to oppose any attempt the 
 enemy might make to recover it. Of the two armies, 
 more than nine thousand men lay dead ; a still greater 
 number were wounded, and among the imperialists, 
 scarcely a man escaped from the field uninjured. The 
 entire plain from Liitzen to the Canal was strewed with 
 the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Many of the 
 principal nobility had fallen on both sides. Even the 
 Abbot of Fulda, who had mingled in the combat as a 
 spectator, paid for his curiosity and his ill-timed zeal 
 with his life. History says nothing of prisoners; a fur- 
 ther proof of the animosity of the combatants, who 
 neither gave nor took quarter. 
 
 But it was a dear conquest, a dearer triumph! It was 
 not till the fury of the conquest was over, that the full 
 weight of the loss sustained was felt, and the shout of 
 trimnph died away into a silent, gloomy despair. He 
 who had led them to the charge, returned not with 
 them; there he lies upon the field which he had won, 
 mingled with the dead bodies of the common crowd. 
 After a long and almost fruitless search, the corpse of the 
 
 204 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
 
 king was discovered, not far from the great stone, 
 which, for a hundred years before, had stood between 
 Liitzen and the Canal, and which, from the memorable 
 disaster of that day, still bears the name of the Stone of 
 the Swedes. Covered with blood and wounds, so as 
 scarcely to be recognized, trampled beneath the horses' 
 hoofs, stripped by the rude hands of plunderers of its 
 ornaments and clothes, his body was drawn from be- 
 neath a heap of dead, conveyed to Weissenfels, and 
 there delivered up to the lamentations of his soldiers 
 and the last embraces of his queen. The first tribute had 
 been paid to revenge, and blood had atoned for the 
 blood of the monarch; but now affection assumed its 
 rights, and tears of grief must flow for the man. The 
 universal sorrow absorbs all individual woes. The 
 generals, still stupefied by the unexpected blow, stood 
 speechless and motionless around his bier, and no one 
 trusted himself enough to contemplate the full extent of 
 their loss. 
 
THE BATTLE OF NASEBY 
 
 by obadiah bind-their-kings-in-chains-and-their- 
 
 nobles-with-links-of-iron, sergeant in 
 
 ireton's regiment 
 
 [1645] 
 BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 
 
 [The army of Cromwell was of remarkable caliber. High 
 wages were given to the soldiers, and only those who were 
 sober and God-fearing were permitted to join its ranks. 
 Oaths, theft, gambhng, and drunkenness were unknown. As 
 Macaulay says, "The most rigid discipline was found in 
 company with the wildest enthusiasm." 
 
 One peculiarity of the Puritan was his choice of given 
 names for his children. He was not satisfied with simple 
 Biblical names of one word, but frequently adopted a whole 
 phrase, such as Zeal-of-the-Land, Praise-God, etc. 
 
 The battle of Naseby, between the forces of Charles I and 
 those of Cromwell, resulted in the utter defeat of the king. 
 The royal army was nearly annihilated. The " Man of Blood " 
 was the name given by the Puritans to King Charles. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 Oh! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the 
 North, 
 With your hands and your feet and your raiment all 
 red? 
 And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous 
 shout? 
 And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye 
 tread? 
 
 206 
 
THE BATTLE OF NASEBY 
 
 Oh, evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit. 
 
 And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod ; 
 
 For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the 
 strong, 
 Who sat in the high places, and slew the saints of God. 
 
 It was about the noon of a glorious day of June, 
 
 That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses 
 shine, 
 And the Man of Blood was there with his long essenced 
 hair, 
 And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the 
 Rhine. 
 
 Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword, 
 The general rode along us to form us to the fight, 
 
 When a murmuring sound broke out, and swelled into 
 a shout, 
 Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant's right. 
 
 And hark! like the roar of the billows on the shore. 
 The cry of battle rises along their charging line ! 
 
 For God ! for the Cause ! for the Church ! for the Laws ! 
 For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the 
 Rhine! 
 
 The furious German comes, with his clarions and his 
 drums, 
 His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall; 
 They are bursting on our flanks. Grasp your pikes, close 
 your ranks, 
 For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. 
 
 207 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 They are here! They rush on! We are broken ! We are 
 
 gone! 
 
 Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. 
 
 O Lord, put forth Thy might I O Lord, defend the right! 
 
 Stand back to back in God's name, and fight it to the 
 
 last. 
 
 Stout Skippon hath a wound, the center hath given 
 ground: 
 Hark! hark! — what means the trampling of horse- 
 men on our rear? 
 Whose banner do I see, boys? 'T is he, thank God, 't is 
 he, boys! 
 Bear up another minute: brave Oliver is here. 
 
 Their heads all stooping low, their points all in a 
 row, 
 Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the 
 dikes, 
 Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the accurst. 
 And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes. 
 
 Fast, fast the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide 
 Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple 
 Bar: 
 And he — he turns, he flies: shame on those cruel eyes 
 That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on 
 war! 
 
 Ho! comrades, scour the plain, and, ere ye strip the 
 slain. 
 First give another stab to make your search secure, 
 
 208 
 
THE BATTLE OF NASEBY 
 
 Then shake from sleeves and pockets their broadpieces 
 and lockets, 
 The tokens of the wanton, the plunder of the poor. 
 
 Fools! your doublets shone with gold, and your hearts 
 were gay and bold, 
 When you kissed your lily hands to your lemans to- 
 day; 
 And to-morrow shall the fox, from her chambers in the 
 rocks, 
 Lead forth her tawny cubs to howl above the prey. 
 
 Where be your tongues that late mocked at heaven and 
 hell and fate, 
 And the fingers that once were so busy with your 
 blades; 
 Your perfumed satin clothes, your catches and your 
 oaths, 
 Your stage-plays and your sonnets, your diamonds 
 and your spades? 
 
 Down, down, forever down with the miter and the 
 crown. 
 With the Belial of the court, and the Mammon of the 
 Pope; 
 There is woe in Oxford halls: there is wail in Durham's 
 stalls : 
 The Jesuit smites his bosom: the bishop rends his 
 cope. 
 And she of the seven hills shall mourn her children's ills, 
 And tremble when she thinks on the edge of England's 
 sword; 
 
 209 
 
ENGLAND 
 
 And the kings of earth in fear shall shudder when they 
 hear 
 What the hand of God hath wrought for the Houses 
 and the Word. 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER-HILL 
 BATTLE 
 
 [1775] 
 
 AS SHE SAW IT FROM THE BELERY 
 BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 
 
 'T IS like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one 
 
 remembers 
 All the achings and the quakings of " the times that tried 
 
 men's souls;" 
 When I talk of Whig and Tory, when I tell the Rebel 
 
 story, 
 To you the words are ashes, but to me they 're burning 
 
 coals. 
 
 I had heard the muskets' rattle of the April running 
 
 battle; 
 Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, I can see their red coats still; 
 But a deadly chill comes o'er me, as the day looms up 
 
 before me. 
 When a thousand men lay bleeding on the slopes of 
 
 Bunker's Hill. 
 
 'T was a peaceful summer's morning, when the first 
 
 thing gave us warning 
 Was the booming of the cannon from the river and the 
 
 shore : 
 " Child," says grandma, "what 's the matter, what is all 
 
 this noise and clatter? 
 Have those scalping Indian devils come to murder us 
 
 once more?" 
 
 211 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Poor old soul ! my sides were shaking in the midst of all 
 
 my quaking, 
 To hear her talk of Indians when the guns began to roar : 
 She had seen the burning village, and the slaughter and 
 
 the pillage, 
 When the Mohawks killed her father with their bullets 
 
 through his door. 
 
 Then I said, "Now, dear old granny, don't you fret and 
 
 worry any, 
 For I '11 soon come back and tell you whether this is work 
 
 or play; 
 There can't be mischief in it, so I won't be gone a 
 
 minute" — 
 For a minute then I started. I was gone the hvelong day. 
 
 No time for bodice-lacing or for looking-glass grimacing; 
 Down my hair went as I hurried, tumbling half-way to 
 
 my heels; 
 God forbid your ever knowing, when there 's blood 
 
 around her flowing. 
 How the lonely, helpless daughter of a quiet household 
 
 feels! 
 
 In the street I heard a thumping; and I knew it was the 
 
 stumping 
 Of the Corporal, our old neighbor, on that wooden leg he 
 
 wore, 
 With a knot of women round him, — it was lucky I had 
 
 found him, 
 So I followed with the others, and the Corporal marched 
 
 before. 
 
 212 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 
 
 They were making for the steeple, — the old soldier and 
 
 his people; 
 The pigeons circled round us as we climbed the creaking 
 
 stair, 
 Just across the narrow river — O, so close it made me 
 
 shiver ! — 
 Stood a fortress on the hilltop that but yesterday was bare . 
 
 Not slow our eyes to find it; well we knew who stood 
 behind it, 
 
 Though the earthwork hid them from us, and the stub- 
 born walls were dumb: 
 
 Here were sister, wife, and mother, looking wild upon 
 each other, 
 
 And their lips were white with terror as they said, The 
 
 HOUR HAS come! 
 
 The morning slowly wasted, not a morsel had we tasted, 
 And our heads were almost splitting with the cannons' 
 
 deafening thrill, 
 When a figure tall and stately round the rampart strode 
 
 sedately; 
 It was Prescott, one since told me; he commanded on 
 
 the hill. 
 
 Every woman's heart grew bigger when we saw his 
 
 manly figure, 
 With the banyan buckled round it, standing up so 
 
 straight and tall; 
 Like a gentleman of leisure who is strolling out for 
 
 pleasure. 
 Through the storm of shells and cannon-shot he walked 
 
 around the wall. 
 
 213 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 At eleven the streets were swarming, for the red-coats' 
 
 ranks were forming; 
 At noon in marching order they were moving to the piers; 
 How the bayonets gleamed and glistened, as we looked 
 
 far down, and listened 
 To the trampling and the drum-beat of the belted 
 
 grenadiers! 
 
 At length the men have started, with a cheer (it seemed 
 
 faint-hearted). 
 In their scarlet regimentals, with their knapsacks on 
 
 their backs, 
 And the reddening, rippling water, as after a sea-fight's 
 
 slaughter. 
 Round the barges gliding onward blushed like blood 
 
 along their tracks. 
 
 So they crossed to the other border, and again they 
 
 formed in order; 
 And the boats came back for soldiers, came for soldiers, 
 
 soldiers still: 
 The time seemed everlasting to us women faint and 
 
 fasting, — 
 At last they're moving, marching, marching proudly up 
 
 the hill. 
 
 We can see the bright steel glancing all along the lines 
 
 advancing — 
 Now the front rank fires a volley — they have thrown 
 
 away their shot; 
 For behind their earthwork lying, all the balls above 
 
 them flying, 
 Our people need not hurry; so they wait and answer not. 
 
 214 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 
 
 Then the Corporal, our old cripple (he would swear 
 
 sometimes and tipple) , — 
 He had heard the bullets whistle (in the old French war) 
 
 before, — 
 Calls out in words of jeering, just as if they all were 
 
 hearing, — 
 And his wooden leg thumps fiercely on the dusty belfry 
 
 floor: — 
 
 "O! fire away, ye villains, and earn King George's 
 
 shillin's, 
 But ye '11 waste a ton of powder afore a 'rebel' falls; 
 You may bang the dirt and welcome, they're as safe as 
 
 Dan'l Malcolm 
 Ten foot beneath the gravestone that you've splintered 
 
 with your balls!" 
 
 In the hush of expectation, in the awe and trepidation 
 Of the dread approaching moment, we are wellnigh 
 
 breathless all; 
 Though the rotten bars are failing on the rickety belfry 
 
 railing, 
 We are crowding up against them like the waves against 
 
 a wall. 
 
 Just a glimpse (the air is clearer), they are nearer, — 
 
 nearer, — nearer, 
 When a flash — a curling smoke wreath — then a 
 
 crash — the steeple shakes — 
 The deadly truce is ended; the tempest's shroud is 
 
 rended; 
 Like a morning mist it gathered, like a thunder-cloud it 
 
 breaks! 
 
 215 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 O the sight our eyes discover as the blue-black smoke 
 
 blows over! 
 The red-coats stretched in windrows as a mower rakes 
 
 his hay; 
 Here a scarlet heap is lying, there a headlong crowd is flying 
 Like a billow that has broken and is shivered into spray. 
 
 Then we cried, "The troops are routed! they are beat — 
 
 it can't be doubted! 
 God be thanked, the fight is over!" — Ah! the grim old 
 
 soldier's smile! 
 "Tell us, tell us why you look so?" (we could hardly 
 
 speak, we shook so) , — 
 "Are they beaten? Are they beaten? Are they 
 
 beaten?" — "Wait a while." 
 
 O the trembling and the terror! for too soon we saw our 
 
 error; 
 They are baffled, not defeated; we have driven them 
 
 back in vain; 
 And the columns that were scattered, round the colors 
 
 that were tattered, 
 Toward the sullen silent fortress turn their belted 
 
 breasts again. 
 
 All at once, as we are gazing, lo, the roofs of Charlestown 
 
 blazing ! 
 They have fired the harmless village; in an hour it will be 
 
 down! 
 The Lord in heaven confound them, rain his fire and 
 
 brimstone round them, — 
 The robbing, murdering red-coats, that would burn a 
 
 peaceful town ! 
 
 .2X6 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 
 
 They are marching, stern and solemn ! we can see each 
 
 massive column 
 As they near the naked earth-mound with the slanting 
 
 walls so steep. 
 Have our soldiers got faint-hearted, and in noiseless 
 
 haste departed? 
 Are they panic-struck and helpless? Are they palsied or 
 
 asleep? 
 
 Now! the walls they're almost under! scarce a rod the 
 foes asunder! 
 
 Not a firelock flashed against them! up the earthwork 
 they will swarm! 
 
 But the words have scarce been spoken, when the omi- 
 nous calm is broken, 
 
 And a bellowing crash has emptied all the vengeance of 
 the storm! 
 
 So again, with murderous slaughter, pelted backwards to 
 
 the water. 
 Fly Pigot's running heroes and the frightened braves of 
 
 Howe; 
 And we shout, "At last they're done for, it's their 
 
 barges they have run for: 
 They are beaten, beaten, beaten; and the battle's over 
 
 now!" 
 
 And we looked, poor timid creatures, on the rough old 
 
 soldier's features, 
 Our lips afraid to question, but he knew what we would 
 
 ask: 
 
 217 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 "Not sure," he said; "keep quiet, — once more, I guess, 
 
 they'll try it — 
 Here's damnation to the cut-throats!" — then he 
 
 handed me his flask, 
 
 Saying, " Gal, you're looking shaky; have a drop of old 
 
 Jamaiky; 
 I 'm af eard there '11 be more trouble afore the job is 
 
 done;" 
 So I took one scorching swallow ; dreadful faint I felt and 
 
 hollow, 
 Standing there from early morning when the firing was 
 
 begun. 
 
 All through those hours of trial I had watched a calm 
 
 clock dial, 
 As the hands kept creeping, creeping, — they were 
 
 creeping round to four, 
 When the old man said, "They 're forming with their 
 
 bagonets fixed for storming: 
 It's the death-grip that's a coming, — they will try the 
 
 works once more." 
 
 With brazen trimipets blaring, the flames behind them 
 glaring, 
 
 The deadly wall before them, in close array they 
 come; 
 
 Still onward, upward toiling, like a dragon's fold uncoil- 
 ing, — 
 
 Like the rattlesnake's shrill warning the reverberating 
 drum! 
 
 218 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 
 
 Over heaps all torn and gory — shall I tell the fearful 
 
 story, 
 How they surged above the breastwork, as a sea breaks 
 
 over a deck ; 
 How, driven, yet scarce defeated, our worn-out men 
 
 retreated, 
 With their powder-horns all emptied, like the swimmers 
 
 from a wreck? 
 
 It has all been told and painted; as for me, they say I 
 
 fainted, 
 And the wooden-legged old Corporal stumped with me 
 
 down the stair: 
 When I woke from dreams affrighted the evening lamps 
 
 were lighted, — 
 On the floor a youth was lying; his bleeding breast was 
 
 bare. 
 
 And I heard through all the flurry, "Send for Warren! 
 
 hurry! hurry! 
 Tell him here's a soldier bleeding, and he'll come and 
 
 dress his wound!" 
 Ah, we knew not till the morrow told its tale of death 
 
 and sorrow, 
 How the starlight found him stiffened on the dark and 
 
 bloody ground. 
 
 Who the youth was, what his name was, where the place 
 
 from which he came was. 
 Who had brought him from the battle and had left him 
 
 at our door, 
 
 219 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 He could not speak to tell us; but 't was one of our brave 
 
 fellows, 
 As the homespun plainly showed us which the dying 
 soldier wore. 
 
 For they all thought he was dying, as they gathered 
 
 round him crying, — 
 And they said, "O how they'll miss him!" and, "What 
 
 li'ill his mother do?" 
 Then, his eyelids just unclosing like a child's that has 
 
 been dozing, 
 He faintly murmured, "Mother!" — and — I saw his 
 
 eyes w^ere blue. 
 
 — "Why, grandma, how you're winking!" — Ah, my 
 
 child, it sets me thinking 
 Of a story not like this one. Well, he somehow lived 
 
 along; 
 So we came to know each other, and I nursed him like a 
 
 — mother. 
 Till at last he stood before me, tall, and rosy-cheeked, 
 
 and strong. 
 
 And we sometimes walked together in the pleasant 
 summer weather; 
 
 — "Please to tell us what his name was?" — Just your 
 
 own, my little dear, — 
 There's his picture Copley painted: we became so well 
 
 acquainted, 
 That — in short, that's why I'm grandma, and you 
 
 children all are here! 
 
THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE SERAPIS AND 
 THE BON HOMME RICHARD 
 
 [1775-1781] 
 
 BY JOEL TYLER HEADLEY 
 
 Jones returned with his prizes to Paris, and offered his 
 services to France. In hopes of getting command of a 
 larger vessel he gave up the Ranger, but soon had cause 
 to regret it, for he was left for a long time without em- 
 plo3mient. He had been promised the Indian; and the 
 Prince of Nassau, pleased by the daring of Jones, had 
 promised to accompany him as a volunteer. But this 
 fell through, together with many other projects, and but 
 for the firm friendship of Franklin, he would have fared 
 but poorly in the French capital. After a long series of 
 annoyances and disappointments, he at length obtained 
 command of a vessel, which, out of respect to Franklin, 
 he named the Bon Homme Richard, the ' ' Poor Richard." 
 With seven ships in all — a snug little squadron for 
 Jones, had the different commanders been subordinate 
 — he set sail from France, and steered for the coast of 
 Ireland. The want of proper subordination was soon 
 made manifest, for in a week's time the vessels, one after 
 another, parted company, to cruise by themselves, till 
 Jones had with him but the Alliance, Pallas, and Venge- 
 ance. In a tremendous storm he bore away, and after 
 several days of gales and heavy seas, approached the 
 shore of Scotland. Taking several prizes near the Firth 
 of Forth, he ascertained that a twenty-four-gun ship, 
 and two cutters were in the roads. These he determined 
 
 221 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES IN THE REVOLUTION 
 
 to cut out, and, landing at Leith, lay the town under 
 contribution. The inhabitants supposed his little fleet to 
 be English vessels in pursuit of Paul Jones; and a mem- 
 ber of Parliament, a wealthy man in the place, sent off a 
 boat, requesting powder and balls to defend himself, as 
 he said, against the "pirate Paul Jones." Jones very 
 politely sent back the bearer with a barrel of powder, ex- 
 pressing his regrets that he had no shot to spare. Soon 
 after, in his pompous, inflated manner, he summoned 
 the town to surrender; but the wind blowing steadily off 
 the land, he could not approach with his vessel. 
 
 At length, however, the wind changed, and the Rich- 
 ard stood boldly in for the shore. The inhabitants, as 
 they saw her bearing steadily up towards the place, 
 were filled with terror, and ran hither and thither in 
 affright; but the good minister, Rev. Mr. Shirra, assem- 
 bled his flock on the beach, to pray the Lord to deliver 
 them from their enemies. He was an eccentric man, one 
 of the quaintest of the quaint Scotch divines, so that his 
 prayers, even in those days, were often quoted for their 
 oddity and even roughness. 
 
 Whether the following prayer is literally true or not, 
 it is difficult to tell, but there is little doubt that the 
 invocation of the excited, eccentric old man was suffi- 
 ciently odd. It is said that, having gathered his con- 
 gregation on the beach in full sight of the vessel, which, 
 under a press of canvas, was making a long tack that 
 brought her close to the town, he knelt down on the 
 sand, and thus began: "Now, dear Lord, dinna ye think 
 it a shame for ye to send this vile pirate to rob our folk 
 o' Kirkaldy; for ye ken they're puir enow already, and 
 hae naething to spare. The way the wind blaws he'll 
 
 222 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 be here in a jiffy, and wha kens what he may do; he's 
 nae too good for onything. Mickle 's the mischief he has 
 done aheady. He'll burn their houses, tak their very 
 claes, and tirl them to the sark. And waes me! wha kens 
 but the bluidy villain might take their lives! The puir 
 weemen are maist frightened out o' their wits, and the 
 bairns skirling after them. I canna think of it ! I canna 
 think of it! I hae been long a faithful servant to ye, 
 Lord; but gin ye dinna turn the wind about, and blaw 
 the scoundrel out of our gate, I'll nae stir a foot: but 
 will just sit here till the tide comes. Sae tak ye'r will 
 o't." To the no little astonishment of the good people, 
 a fierce gale at that moment began to blow, which sent 
 one of Jones's prizes ashore, and forced him to stand out 
 to sea. This fixed forever the reputation of good Mr. 
 Shirra; and he did not himself wholly deny that he be- 
 lieved his intercessions brought on the gale, for when- 
 ever his parishioners spoke of it to him, he always 
 replied, "I prayed, but the Lord sent the wind." 
 
 Stretching from thence along the English coast, Jones 
 cruised about for a whUe, and at length fell in with the 
 Alliance, which had parted company with him a short 
 time previous. With this vessel, the Pallas and Venge- 
 ance, — making, with the Richard, four ships, — he 
 stood to the north; when, on the afternoon of Septem- 
 ber 23d, 1779, he saw a fleet of forty-one sail hugging 
 the coast. This was the Baltic fleet, under the convoy 
 of the Serapis, of forty-one guns, and the Countess of 
 Scarborough, of twenty guns. Jones immediately issued 
 his orders to form line of battle, while with his ship he 
 gave chase. The convoy scattered like wild pigeons, and 
 ran for the shore, to place themselves under the protec- 
 
 223 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 tion of a fort, but the two warships advanced to the 
 conflict. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, the wind was light, so that 
 not a wave broke the smooth surface of the sea — and all 
 was smiling and tranquil on land, as the hostile forces 
 slowly approached each other. The piers of Scarborough 
 were crowded with spectators, and the old promontory 
 of Flamborough, over three miles distant, was black 
 with the multitude assembled to witness the engage- 
 ment. The breeze was so light that the vessels ap- 
 proached each other slowly, as if reluctant to come to 
 the mortal struggle, and mar that placid scene and that 
 beautiful evening with the sound of battle. It was a 
 thrilling spectacle, those bold ships with their sails all 
 set, moving sternly up to each other. At length the 
 cloudless sun sank behind the hills, and twilight deep- 
 ened over the waters. The next moment the full round 
 moon pushed its broad disk over the tranquil waters, 
 bathing in her soft beams the white sails that now 
 seemed like gentle moving clouds on the deep. 
 
 The Pallas stood for the Countess of Scarborough, 
 while the Alliance, after having also come within range, 
 withdrew and took up a position where she could safely 
 contemplate the fight. Paul Jones, now in his element, 
 paced the deck to and fro, impatient for the contest; 
 and at length approached within pistol-shot of the 
 Serapis. The latter was a new ship, with an excellent 
 crew, and throwing, with every broadside, seventy-five 
 pounds more than the Richard. Jones, however, rated 
 this lightly, and with his old, half-worn-out merchant- 
 man, closed fearlessly with his powerful antagonist. 
 As he approached the latter, Captain Pearson hailed 
 
 224 
 
THE FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME RICHARD 
 
 him with "What ship is that?" "I can't hear what you 
 say," was the reply. "What ship is that?" rang back. 
 "Answer immediately, or I shall fire into you." A shot 
 from the Richard was the significant answer, and imme- 
 diately both vessels opened their broadsides. Two of the 
 three old eighteen-pounders of the Richard burst at the 
 first fire, and Jones was compelled to close the lower 
 deck ports, which were not opened again during the 
 action. This was an ominous beginning, for it reduced 
 the force of the Richard to one third below that of the 
 Serapis. The broadsides now became more rapid, pre- 
 senting a strange spectacle to the people on shore, the 
 flashes of the guns amid the cloud of smoke, followed by 
 the roar that shook the coast, the dim moonlight, serv- 
 ing to but half-reveal the struggling vessels, conspired 
 to render it one of terror and of dread. The two vessels 
 kept moving alongside, constantly crossing each other's 
 track; now passing each other's bow, and now the stern; 
 pouring in such terrific broadsides as made both friend 
 and foe stagger. Thus fighting and maneuvering, they 
 swept onward, until at length the Richard got foul of 
 the Serapis, and Jones gave the orders to board. His 
 men were repulsed, and Captain Pearson hailed him to 
 know if he had struck. " I have not yet begun to fight," 
 was the short and stern reply of Jones; and backing his 
 topsails, while the Serapis kept full, the vessels parted, 
 and again came alongside, and broadside answered broad- 
 side with fearful effect. But Jones soon saw that this 
 mode of fighting would not answer. The superiority in 
 weight of metal gave them great advantage in this heavy 
 cannonading; especially as his vessel was old and rotten, 
 while every timber in that of his antagonist was new 
 
 225 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 and stanch; and so he determined to throw himself 
 aboard of the enemy. In doing this, he fell farther than 
 he intended, and his vessel catching a moment by the 
 jib boom of the Serapis, carried it away, and the two 
 ships swung close alongside of each other, head and 
 stern, the muzzles of the guns touching. Jones immedi- 
 ately ordered them to be lashed together; and in his 
 eagerness to secure them, helped with his own hands to 
 tie the lashings. Captain Pearson did not like this close 
 fighting, for it destroyed all the advantage his superior 
 sailing and heavier guns gave him, and so let drop an 
 anchor to swing his ship apart. But the two vessels were 
 firmly clenched in the embrace of death; for, added to 
 all the lashings, a spare anchor of the Serapis had hooked 
 the quarter of the Richard, so that when the former 
 obeyed her cable, and swung round to the tide, the latter 
 swung also. Finding that he could not unlock the des- 
 perate embrace in which his foe had clasped him, the 
 Englishman again opened his broadsides. The action 
 then became terrific; the guns touched muzzles, and the 
 gunners, in ramming home their cartridges, were com- 
 pelled frequently to thrust their ramrods into the enemy's 
 ports. Never before had an English commander met 
 such a foeman nor fought such a battle. The timbers 
 rent at every explosion; and huge gaps opened in the 
 sides of each vessel, while they trembled at each dis- 
 charge as if in the mouth of a volcano. With his heaviest 
 guns burst, and part of his deck blown up, Jones still 
 kept up this unequal fight, with a bravery unparalleled 
 in naval warfare. He, with his own hands, helped to 
 work the guns; and blackened with powder and smoke, 
 moved about among his men with the stern expression 
 
 226 
 
THE FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME RICHARD 
 
 never to yield, written on his delicate features in lines 
 not to be mistaken. To compensate for the superiority 
 of the enemy's guns, he had to discharge his own with 
 greater rapidity, so that after a short time they became 
 so hot that they bounded like mad creatures in their 
 fastenings; and at every discharge the gallant ship 
 trembled like a smitten ox, from kelson to crosstrees, 
 and heeled over till her yardarms almost swept the 
 water. In the mean time his topmen did terrible execu- 
 tion. Hanging amid the rigging, they dropped hand 
 grenades on the enemy's decks with fatal precision. One 
 daring fellow walked out on the end of the yard with a 
 bucket full of these missiles in his hand, and hurling 
 them below, finally set fire to a heap of cartridges. The 
 blaze and explosion which followed were terrific — arms 
 and legs went heavenward together, and nearly sixty 
 men were killed or wounded by this sudden blow. They 
 succeeded at length in driving most of the enemy below 
 decks. The battle then presented a singular aspect — 
 Jones made the upper deck of the Serapis too hot for her 
 crew, while the latter tore his lower decks so dreadfully 
 with her broadsides that his men could not remain 
 there a moment. Thus they fought, one above and the 
 other beneath, the blood in the mean time flowing in 
 rills over the decks of both. Ten times was the Serapis 
 on fire, and as often were the flames extinguished. 
 Never did a man struggle braver than the English com- 
 mander, but a still braver heart opposed him. At this 
 juncture the Alliance came up, and instead of pouring 
 her broadsides into the Serapis, hurled them against 
 the Poor Richard ! — now poor, indeed ! Jones was in a 
 transport of rage, but he could not help himself. 
 
 227 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 In this awful crisis, fighting by the light of the guns, 
 for the smoke had shut out that of the moon, the gunner 
 and carpenter both rushed up, declaring the ship was 
 sinking. The shot-holes which had pierced the hull of 
 the Richard between wind and water had already sunk 
 below the surface, and the water was pouring in like a 
 torrent. The carpenter ran to pull down the colors, 
 which were still flying amid the smoke of battle, while 
 the gunner cried, "Quarter, for God's sake, quarter!" 
 Still keeping up this cry, Jones hurled a pistol, which he 
 had just fired at the ene«ny, at his head, which fractured 
 his skull, and sent him headlong down the hatchway. 
 Captain Pearson hailed to know if he had struck, and 
 was answered by Jones with a "No," accompanied by 
 an oath, that told that, if he could do no better, he would 
 go down, with his colors flying. The master-at-arms, 
 hearing the gunner's cry, and thinking the ship was going 
 to the bottom, released a hundred English prisoners 
 into the midst of the confusion. One of these, passing 
 through the fire to his own ship, told Captain Pearson 
 that the Richard was sinking, and if he would hold out 
 a few moments longer, she must go down. Imagine the 
 condition of Jones at this moment — with every battery 
 silenced, except the one at which he still stood unshaken, 
 his ship gradually settling beneath him, a hundred pris- 
 oners swarming his deck, and his own consort raking 
 him with her broadsides, his last hope seemed about to 
 expire. Still he would not yield. His ofl&cers urged him 
 to surrender, while cries of quarter arose on every side. 
 Undismayed and resolute to the last, he ordered the 
 prisoners to the pmnps, declaring if they refused to 
 work he would take them to the bottom with him. Thus 
 
 228 
 
THE FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME RICHARD 
 
 making panic fight panic, he continued the conflict. The 
 spectacle at this moment was awful — both vessels 
 looked like wrecks, and both were on fire. The flames 
 shot heavenward around the mast of the Serapis, and 
 at length, at half-past ten, she struck. For a time, the 
 inferior ofl&cers did not know which had yielded, such a 
 perfect tumult had the fight become. For three hours 
 and a half had this incessant cannonade, within yard- 
 arm and yardarm of each other, continued, piling three 
 hundred dead and wounded men on those shattered 
 decks. Nothing but the courage and stern resolution of 
 Jones never to surrender saved him from defeat. 
 
 When the morning dawned, the Bon Homme Richard 
 presented a most deplorable appearance — she lay a 
 complete wreck on the sea, riddled through, and liter- 
 ally stove to pieces. There were six feet of water in the 
 hold, while above she was on fire in two places. Jones 
 had put forth every effort to save the vessel in which he 
 had won such renown, but in vain. He kept her afloat 
 all the following day and night, but next morning she 
 was found to be going. The waves rolled through her — • 
 she swayed from side to side, like a dying man — then 
 gave a lurch forward, and went down head foremost. 
 Jones stood on the deck of the English ship, and watched 
 her as he would a dying friend, and finally, with a swell- 
 ing heart, saw her last mast disappear, and the eddy- 
 ing waves close, with a rushing sound, over her as she 
 sank with the dead, who had so nobly fallen on her 
 decks. They could have wished no better coffin or 
 burial. 
 
IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDUE 
 
 [1793] 
 
 BY VICTOR HUGO 
 
 [The peasants of the Vendee, a department of western 
 France, were devoted to the local nobles and had no sym- 
 pathy with the French Revolution. They rose against the 
 Republican Government in 1789; and in 1793, indignant 
 at the conscription laws, and hoping for the aid of England, 
 they made angry resistance. This lasted for three years 
 before they were subdued. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 As we have just seen, the peasants, on arriving at Del, 
 dispersed themselves through the town, each man fol- 
 lowing his own fancy, as happens when troops "obey 
 from friendship," a favorite expression with the Ven- 
 deans, — a species of obedience which makes heroes 
 but not troopers. They thrust the artillery out of the 
 way along with the baggage, under the arches of the old 
 market-hall. They were weary; they ate, drank, counted 
 their rosaries, and lay down pell-mell across the principal 
 street, which was encumbered rather than guarded. 
 
 As night came on, the greater portion fell asleep, with 
 their heads on their knapsacks, some having their wives 
 beside them, for the peasant women often followed their 
 husbands, and the robust ones acted as spies. It was a 
 mild July evening; the constellation glittered in the deep 
 purple of the sky. The entire bivouac, which resembled 
 rather the halt of a caravan than an army encamped, 
 gave itself up to repose. Suddenly, amid the dull 
 
 230 
 
IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDEE 
 
 gleams of twilight, such as had not yet closed their eyes 
 saw three pieces of ordnance pointed at the entrance 
 of the street. It was Gauvain's artillery. He had sur- 
 prised the main-guard. He was in the town, and his 
 column held the top of the street. 
 
 A peasant started up, crying, "Who goes there?" 
 and fired his musket; a cannon-shot replied. Then a 
 furious discharge of musketry burst forth. The whole 
 drowsy crowd sprang up with a start. A rude shock, — 
 to fall asleep under the stars and wake under a volley 
 of grape-shot. 
 
 The first moments were terrific. There is nothing 
 so tragic as the aimless swarming of a thunderstricken 
 crowd. They flung themselves on their arms; they 
 yelled, they ran; many fell. The assaulted peasants no 
 longer knew what they were about, and blindly shot one 
 another. The townspeople, stunned with fright, rushed 
 in and out of their houses, and wandered frantically 
 amid the hubbub. Families shrieked to one another. 
 A dismal combat ensued, in which women and children 
 were mingled. The balls, as they whistled overhead, 
 streaked the darkness with rays of light. A fusillade 
 poured from every dark corner. There was nothing but 
 smoke and tumult. The entanglement of the baggage- 
 wagons and the cannon-carriages was added to the con- 
 fusion. The horses became unmanageable; the wounded 
 were trampled under foot. The groans of the poor 
 wretches, helpless on the ground, filled the air. Horror 
 here, stupefaction there. Soldiers and officers sought 
 for one another. In the midst of all this could be seen 
 creatures made indifferent to the awful scene by per- 
 sonal preoccupations. A woman sat nursing her new- 
 
 231 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 born babe, seated on a bit of wall, against which her 
 husband leaned with his leg broken; and he, while his 
 blood was flowing, tranquilly loaded his rifle and fired 
 at random, straight before him into the darkness. Men 
 lying flat on the ground fired across the spokes of the 
 wagon-wheels. At moments there rose a hideous din of 
 clamors, then the great voices of the cannon drowned 
 all. It was awful. It was like a felling of trees; they 
 dropped one upon another. Gauvain poured out a 
 deadly fire from his ambush, and suffered little loss. 
 
 Still the peasants, courageous amid their disorder, 
 ended by putting themselves on the defensive ; they re- 
 treated into the market, — a vast, obscure redoubt, a 
 forest of stone pillars. There they again made a stand; 
 anything which resembled a wood gave them confidence. 
 Imanus supplied the absence of Lantenac as best he 
 could. They had cannon, but to the great astonishment 
 of Gauvain they did not make use of it ; that was owing 
 to the fact that the artillery officers had gone with the 
 marquis to reconnoiter Mount Dol, and the peasants 
 did not know how to manage the culverins and demi- 
 culverins. But they riddled with balls the Blues who 
 cannonaded them; they replied to the grape-shot by 
 volleys of musketry. It was now they who were shel- 
 tered. They had heaped together the drays, the tum- 
 brels, the casks, all the litter of the old market, and 
 improvised a lofty barricade, with openings through 
 which they could pass their carbines. From these holes 
 their fusillade was murderous. The whole was quickly 
 arranged. In a quarter of an hour the market pre- 
 sented an impregnable front. 
 
 This became a serious matter for Gauvain. This 
 
 232 
 
IN THE REVOLT OF THE VEND£E 
 
 market suddenly transformed into a citadel was unex- 
 pected. The peasants were inside it, massed and solid. 
 Gauvain's surprise had succeeded, but he ran the risk of 
 defeat. He got down from his saddle. He stood atten- 
 tively studying the darkness, his arms folded, clutching 
 his sword in one hand, erect, in the glare of a torch which 
 lighted his battery. The gleam, falling on his tall fig- 
 ure, made him visible to the men behind the barricade. 
 He became an aim for them, but he did not notice it. 
 The shower of balls sent out from the barricade fell 
 about him as he stood there, lost in thought. But he 
 could oppose cannon to all these carbines, and cannon 
 always ends by getting the advantage. Victory rests 
 with him who has the artillery. His battery, well- 
 manned, insured him the superiority. 
 
 Suddenly a lightning-flash burst from the shadowy 
 market; there was a sound hke a peal of thunder, and a 
 ball broke through a house above Gauvain's head. The 
 barricade was replying to the cannon with its own voice. 
 What had happened? Something new had occurred. 
 The artillery was no longer confined to one side. A sec- 
 ond ball followed the first and buried itself in the wall 
 close to Gauvain. A third knocked his hat off on the 
 ground. These balls were of a heavy caliber. It was a 
 sixteen-pounder that fired. 
 
 "They are aiming at you, Commandant," cried the 
 artillerymen. 
 
 They extinguished the torch. Gauvain, as if in a 
 reverie, picked up his hat. Some one had in fact aimed 
 at Gauvain: it was Lantenac. The marquis had just 
 arrived within the barricade from the opposite side. 
 Imanus had hurried to meet him. 
 
 233 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 " Monseigneur, we are surprised!" 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 *'I do not know." 
 
 "Is the route to Dinan free?" 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "We must begin a retreat." 
 
 "It has commenced. A good many have run away." 
 
 "We must not run; we must fall back. Why are you 
 not making use of this artillery?" 
 
 "The men lost their heads; besides, the officers were 
 not here." 
 
 "I am come." 
 
 "Monseigneur, I have sent toward Fougeres all I 
 could of the baggage, the women, everything useless. 
 What is to be done with the three little prisoners?" 
 
 "Ah, those children!" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "They are our hostages. Have them taken to La 
 Tourgue." 
 
 This said, the marquis rushed to the barricade. With 
 the arrival of the chief the whole face of affairs changed. 
 The barricade was ill-constructed for artillery; there was 
 only room for two cannon ; the marquis put in position 
 a couple of sixteen-pounders, for which loopholes were 
 made. As he leaned over one of the guns, watching the 
 enemy's battery through the opening, he perceived 
 Gauvain. 
 
 "It is he!" cried the marquis. 
 
 Then he took the swab and rammer himself, loaded 
 the piece, sighted it, and fired. Thrice he aimed at 
 Gauvain and missed. The third time he only succeeded 
 in knocking his hat off. 
 
 234 
 
IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDEE 
 
 "Numbskull!" muttered Lantenac; "a little lower, 
 and I should have taken his head." Suddenly the torch 
 went out, and he had only darkness before him. "So 
 be it!" said he. Then turning toward the peasant gun- 
 ners, he cried: "Now let them have it!" 
 
 Gauvain, on his side, was not less in earnest. The 
 seriousness of the situation increased. A new phase of 
 the combat developed itself. The barricade had begun 
 to use cannon. Who could tell if it were not about to 
 pass from the defensive to the offensive? He had before 
 him, after deducting the killed and fugitives, at least 
 five thousand combatants, and he had left only twelve 
 hundred serviceable men. What would happen to the 
 republicans if the enemy perceived their paucity of 
 numbers? The roles were reversed. He had been the 
 assailant, — he would become the assailed. If the barri- 
 cade were to make a sortie, everything might be lost. 
 What was to be done? He could no longer think of at- 
 tacking the barricade in front; an attempt at main force 
 would be foolhardy: twelve hundred men cannot dis- 
 lodge five thousand. To rush upon them was impossible; 
 to wait would be fatal. He must make an end. But how? 
 
 Gauvain belonged to the neighborhood; he was ac- 
 quainted with the town; he knew that the old market- 
 house where the Vendeans were intrenched was backed 
 by a labyrinth of narrow and crooked streets. He 
 turned toward his lieutenant, who was that valiant 
 Captain Guechamp, afterward famous for clearing out 
 the forest of Concise, where Jean Chouan was born, and 
 for preventing the capture of Bourgneuf by holding the 
 dike of La Chaine against the rebels. 
 
 "Guechamp," said be, "I leave you in command. 
 
 235 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Fire as fast as you can. Riddle the barricade with can- 
 non-balls. Keep all those fellows over yonder busy." 
 
 "I understand," said Guechamp. 
 
 "Mass the whole column with their guns loaded, and 
 hold them ready to make an onslaught." He added a 
 few words in Guechamp's ear. 
 
 "I hear," said Guechamp. 
 
 Gauvain resumed, ''Are all our drummers on foot?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "We have nine. Keep two, and give me seven." 
 
 The seven drummers ranged themselves in silence in 
 front of Gauvain. Then he said: "Battalion of the Bon- 
 net Rouge!" 
 
 Twelve men, of whom one was a sergeant, stepped out 
 from the main body of the troop. 
 
 "I demand the whole battalion," said Gauvain. 
 
 "Here it is," replied the sergeant. 
 
 "You are twelve!" 
 
 "There are twelve of us left." 
 
 "It is well," said Gauvain. 
 
 There was a forage wagon standing near; Gauvain 
 pointed toward it with his finger. "Sergeant, order 
 your men to make some straw ropes and twist them 
 about their guns, so that there will be no noise if they 
 knock together." 
 
 A minute passed; the order was silently executed in 
 the darkness. 
 
 "It is done," said the sergeant. 
 
 "Soldiers, take off your shoes," commanded Gauvain. 
 
 "We have none," returned the sergeant. 
 
 They numbered, counting the drummers, nineteen 
 men; Gauvain made the twentieth. He cried: "Follow 
 
 236 
 
IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDfiE 
 
 me! Single file! The drummers next to me, the bat- 
 talion behind them. Sergeant, you will command the 
 battalion." 
 
 He put himself at the head of the column, and while 
 the firing on both sides continued, these twenty men, 
 gliding along like shadows, plunged into the deserted 
 lanes. The line marched thus for some time, twisting 
 along the fronts of the houses. The whole town seemed 
 dead; the citizens -were hidden in their cellars. Every 
 door was barred; every shutter closed; no light to be 
 seen anywhere. Amid the silence this principal street 
 kepfup its din; the cannonading continued; the repub- 
 lican battery and the royalist barricade spit forth their 
 volleys with undiminished fury. 
 
 After twenty minutes of this tortuous march, Gau- 
 vain, who kept his way unerringly through the darkness, 
 reached the end of a lane which led into the broad 
 street, but on the other side of the market-house. The 
 position was turned. In this direction there was no 
 intrenchment, according to the eternal imprudence of 
 barricade builders; the market was open, and the 
 entrance free among the pillars where some baggage- 
 wagons stood ready to depart. Gauvain and his nine- 
 teen men had the five thousand Vendeans before them, 
 but their backs instead of their faces. 
 
 Gauvain spoke in a low voice to the sergeant; the 
 soldiers untwisted the straw from their guns; the twelve 
 grenadiers posted themselves in line behind the angle 
 of the lane, and the seven drummers waited with their 
 drumsticks Hfted. The artillery firing was intermittent. 
 Suddenly, in a pause between the discharges, Gauvain 
 waved his sword, and cried in a voice which rang like a 
 
 237 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 trumpet through the silence: "Two hundred men to the 
 right; two hundred men to the left; all the rest in the 
 center!" 
 
 The twelve muskets fired, and the seven drums 
 beat. 
 
 Gauvain uttered the formidable battle-cry of the 
 Blues: "To your bayonets! Down upon them!" 
 
 The effect was prodigious. This whole peasant mass 
 felt itself surprised in the rear, and believed that it had a 
 fresh army at its back. At the same instant, on hearing 
 the drums, the column which Guechamp commanded at 
 the head of the street began to move, sounding the 
 charge in its turn, and flung itself at a run on the barri- 
 cade. The peasants found themselves between two 
 fires. Panic magnifies: a pistol-shot sounds like the re- 
 port of a cannon; in moments of terror the imagination 
 heightens every noise; the barking of a dog sounds like 
 the roar of a lion. Add to this the fact that the peasant 
 catches fright as easily as thatch catches fire; and as 
 quickly as a blazing thatch becomes a conflagration, a 
 panic among peasants becomes a rout. An indescribably 
 confused flight ensued. 
 
 In a few instants the market-hall was empty; the 
 terrified rustics broke away in all directions; the officers 
 were powerless; Imanus uselessly killed two or three 
 fugitives; nothing was to be heard but the cry, "Save 
 yourselves!" The army poured through the streets of 
 the town like water through the holes of a sieve, and 
 dispersed into the open country with the rapidity of a 
 cloud carried along by a whirlwind. Some fled toward 
 Chateauneuf, some toward Plerguer, others toward 
 Antrain. 
 
 238 
 
IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDEE 
 
 The Marquis de Lantenac watched this stampede. 
 He spiked the guns with his own hands and then 
 retreated, — the last of all, slowly, composedly, saying 
 to himself, "Decidedly, the peasants will not stand. 
 We must have the English." 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 [1798] 
 
 BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 
 
 Early on the morning of the 6th of July, the army com- 
 menced its march over the apparently boundless plain of 
 shifting sands. No living creature met the eye but a few- 
 Arab horsemen, who occasionally appeared and disap- 
 peared at the horizon, and who, concealing themselves 
 behind the sand-hills, immediately murdered any strag- 
 glers who wandered from the ranks, or from sickness 
 or exhaustion loitered behind. Four days of inconceiv- 
 able suffering were occupied in crossing the desert. The 
 soldiers, accustomed to the luxuriance, beauty, and 
 abundance of the valleys of Italy, were plunged into 
 the most abject depression. Even the officers found 
 their firmness giving way, and Lannes and Murat, in 
 parox}'sms of despair, dashed their hats upon the sand, 
 and trampled them imder foot. Many fell and perished 
 on the long and dreary route. But the dense columns 
 toiled on, hour after hour, weary, hungry, and faint, and 
 thirsty, the hot sun blazing down upon their unsheltered 
 heads, and the yielding sands burning their blistered 
 feet. At the commencement of the enterprise, Napoleon 
 had promised to each of his soldiers seven acres of land. 
 As they looked around upon this dreary and boundless 
 ocean of sand, they spoke jocularly of his moderation in 
 promising them but seven acres. "The young rogue," 
 said they, "might have safely offered us as much as we 
 
 240 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 chose to take. We certainly should not have abused his 
 good-nature." 
 
 Nothing can show more strikingly the singular control 
 which Napoleon had obtained over his army than the 
 fact that, under these circumstances, no one murmured 
 against him. He toiled along on foot at the head of the 
 column, sharing the fatigue of the most humble soldiers. 
 Like them, he threw himself upon the sands at night, 
 with the sand for his pillow, and, secreting no luxuries 
 for himself, he ate the coarse beans which afforded the 
 only food for the army. He was ever the last to fold his 
 cloak around him for the night, and the first to spring 
 from the ground in the morning. The soldiers bitterly 
 cursed the Government who had sent them to that land 
 of barrenness and desolation. Seeing the men of science 
 stopping to examine the antiquities, they accused them 
 of being the authors of the expedition, and revenged 
 themselves with witticisms. But no one uttered a 
 word against Napoleon. His presence overawed all. He 
 seemed to be insensible to hunger, thirst, or fatigue. It 
 was observed that, while all others were drenched with 
 perspiration, not a drop of moisture oozed from his brow. 
 
 Through all the hours of this dreary march, not a word 
 or gesture escaped him which indicated the slightest 
 embarrassment or inquietude. One day he approached 
 a group of discontented officers, and said to them, in 
 tones of firmness which at once brought them to their 
 senses, "You are holding mutinous language! Beware! 
 It is not your being six feet high which will save you 
 from being shot in a couple of hours." 
 
 In the midst of the desert, when gloom and despond- 
 ency had taken possession of all hearts, unbounded joy 
 
 241 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 was excited by the appearance of a lake of crystal 
 water but a few miles before them, with villages and 
 palm trees beautifully reflected in its clear and glassy 
 depths. The parched and panting troops rushed eagerly 
 on to plunge into the delicious waves. Hour after hour 
 passed, and they approached no nearer the elysium 
 before them. Dreadful was their disappointment when 
 they found that it was all an illusion, and that they were 
 pursuing the mirage of the dry and dusty desert. At one 
 time Napoleon, with one or two of his officers, wandered 
 a Httle distance from the main body of his army. A 
 troop of Arab horsemen, concealed by some sand-hills, 
 watched his movements, but for some unknown reason, 
 when he was entirely in their power, did not harm him. 
 Napoleon soon perceived his peril, and escaped un- 
 molested. Upon his return to the troops, peacefully 
 smiUng, he said, "It is not written on high that I am to 
 perish by the hands of the Arabs." 
 
 As the army drew near the Nile, the Mameluke horse- 
 men increased in numbers, and in the frequency and the 
 recklessness of their attacks. Their appearance and the 
 impetuosity of their onset was most imposing. Each 
 one was mounted on a fleet Arabian steed, and was 
 armed with pistol, saber, carbine, and blunderbuss. The 
 carbine was a short gun, which threw a small bullet with 
 great precision. The blunderbuss was also a short gun, 
 with a large bore, capable of holding a number of balls, 
 and of doing execution without exact aim. These fierce 
 warriors, accustomed to the saddle almost from infancy, 
 presented an array indescribably brilHant, as, with gay 
 turbans, and waving plumes, and gaudy banners, and 
 gold-spangled robes, in meteoric splendor, with the 
 
 242 
 
BONAPARTE BEFORE THE SPHINX 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 swiftness of the wind, they burst from behind the sand- 
 hills. Charging like the rush of the tornado, they rent 
 the air with their hideous yells, and discharged their 
 carbines while in full career, and halted, wheeled, and 
 retreated with a precision and celerity which amazed 
 even the most accomplished horsemen of the Army of 
 Italy. 
 
 The extended sandy plains were exactly adapted to 
 the maneuvers of these flying herds. The least motion 
 or the shghtest breath of wind raised a cloud of dust, 
 blinding, choking, and smothering the French, but ap- 
 parently presenting no annoyance either to the Arab 
 rider or to his horse. If a weary straggler loitered a few 
 steps behind the toiling column, or if any soldiers ven- 
 tured to leave the ranks in pursuit of the Mamelukes in 
 their bold attacks, certain and instant death was encoun- 
 tered. A wild troop, enveloped in clouds of dust, like 
 spirits from another world, dashed upon them, cut down 
 the adventurers with their keen Damascus blades, and 
 disappeared in the desert almost before a musket could 
 be leveled at them. 
 
 After five days of inconceivable suffering, the long- 
 wished-for Nile was seen, glittering through the sand- 
 hills of the desert, and bordered by a fringe of the richest 
 luxuriance. The scene burst upon the view of the pant- 
 ing soldiers like a vision of enchantment. Shouts of joy 
 burst from the ranks. All discipHne and order were 
 instantly forgotten. The whole army of thirty thousand 
 men, with horses and camels, rushed forward, a tumultu- 
 ous throng, and plunged, in the delirium of excitement, 
 into the waves. They luxuriated, with indescribable 
 delight, in the cool and refreshing stream. They rolled 
 
 243 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 over and over in the water, shouting and frolicking in 
 wild joy. Reckless of consequences, they drank and 
 drank again, as if they never could be satiated with the 
 delicious beverage. 
 
 In the midst of this scene of turbulent and almost 
 frenzied exultation, a cloud of dust was seen in the dis- 
 tance, the trampling of hoofs was heard, and a body of 
 nearly a thousand Mameluke horsemen, on fleet Ara- 
 bian chargers, came sweeping down upon them with 
 fiendlike velocity, their sabers flashing in the sunhght, 
 and rending the air with their hideous yells. The drums 
 beat the alarm, the trumpets sounded, and the veteran 
 soldiers, drilled to the most perfect mechanical precision, 
 instantly formed in squares, with the artillery at the 
 angles, to meet the foe. In a moment, the assault, like a 
 tornado, fell upon them. But it was a tornado striking a 
 rock. Not a line wavered. A palisade of bristling bayo- 
 nets met the breasts of the horses, and they recoiled from 
 the shock. A volcanic burst of fire, from artillery and 
 musketry, rolled hundreds of steeds and riders together 
 in the dust. The survivors, wheehng their unchecked 
 chargers, disappeared with the same meteoric rapidity 
 with which they had approached. 
 
 The flotilla now appeared in sight, having arrived at 
 the destined spot at the precise hour designated by 
 Napoleon. This was not accident. It was the result of 
 that wonderful power of mind and extent of information 
 which had enabled Napoleon perfectly to understand 
 the difficulties of the two routes, and to give his orders 
 in such a way that they could be and would be obeyed. 
 It was remarked by Napoleon's generals that, during a 
 week's residence in Egypt, he acquired apparently as 
 
 244 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 perfect an acquaintance with the country as if it had 
 been his native land. 
 
 The whole moral aspect of the army was now changed 
 with the change in the aspect of the country. The ver- 
 satile troops forgot their sufferings, and, rejoicing in 
 abundance, danced and sang beneath the refreshing 
 shade of sycamores and palm trees. The fields were 
 waving with luxuriant harvests. Pigeons were abun- 
 dant. The most delicious watermelons were brought to 
 the camp in inexhaustible profusion; but the villages 
 were poor and squalid, and the houses were hovels of 
 mud. The execrations in which the soldiers had in- 
 dulged in the desert now gave place to jokes and glee. 
 For seven days they marched resolutely forward along 
 the banks of the Nile, admiring the fertility of the 
 country, and despising the poverty and degradation of 
 the inhabitants. They declared that there was no such 
 place as Cairo, but that the "Little Corporal" had suf- 
 fered himself to be transported, like a good hoy, to that 
 miserable land, in search of a city even more unsub- 
 stantial than the mirage of the desert. 
 
 On the march, Napoleon stopped at the house of an 
 Arab sheik. The interior presented a revolting scene of 
 squalidness and misery. The proprietor was, however, 
 reported to be rich. Napoleon treated the old man with 
 great kindness, and asked, through an interpreter, why 
 he lived in such utter destitution of all the comforts 
 of life, assuring him that an unreserved answer should 
 expose him to no inconvenience. He replied: "Some 
 years ago I repaired and furnished my dwelling. Infor- 
 mation of this was carried to Cairo, and having been 
 thus proved to be wealthy, a large sum of money was 
 
 245 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 demanded from me by the Mamelukes, and the basti- 
 nado was inflicted until I paid it. Look at my feet, which 
 bear witness to what I endured. From that time I have 
 reduced myself to the barest necessaries, and no longer 
 seek to repair anything." The poor old man was lamed 
 for life, in consequence of the mutilation which his feet 
 received from the terrible infliction. Such was the tyr- 
 anny of the Mamelukes. The Egyptians, in abject 
 slavery to their proud oppressors, were compelled to 
 surrender their wives, their children, and even their own 
 persons, to the absolute will of the despots who ruled 
 them. 
 
 Numerous bands of Mameluke horsemen, the most 
 formidable body of cavalry in the world, were continu- 
 ally hovering about the army, watching for points of 
 exposure, and it was necessary to be constantly pre- 
 pared for an attack. Nothing could have been more 
 effective than the disposition which Napoleon made 
 of his troops to meet this novel mode of warfare. He 
 formed his army into five squares. The sides of each 
 were composed of ranks six men deep. The artillery 
 were placed at the angles. Within the squares were 
 grenadier companies in platoons to support the points 
 of attack. The generals, the scientific corps, and the 
 baggage were in the center. These squares were moving 
 masses. When on the march, all faced in one direction, 
 the two sides marching in flank. When charged, they 
 immediately halted and fronted on every side — the 
 outermost rank kneeling that those behind might shoot 
 over their heads; the whole body thus presenting a liv- 
 ing fortress of bristling bayonets. 
 
 When they were to carry a position, the three front 
 
 246 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 ranks were to detach themselves from the square, and 
 to form a column of attack. The other three ranks were 
 to remain in the rear, still forming the square, ready 
 to rally the column. These flaming citadels of fire set 
 at defiance all the power of the Arab horsemen. The 
 attacks of the enemy soon became a subject of merri- 
 ment to the soldiers. The scientific men, or savans, as 
 they were called, had been supplied with asses to trans- 
 port their persons and philosophical apparatus. As 
 soon as the body of Mamelukes was seen in the distance, 
 the order was given, with military precision, "Form 
 square, savans and asses in the center J' This order was 
 echoed from rank to rank with peals of laughter. The 
 soldiers amused themselves with calling the asses demi- 
 savans. Though the soldiers thus enjoyed their jokes, 
 they cherished the highest respect for many of these 
 savans, who in scenes of battle had manifested the ut- 
 most intrepidity. After a march of seven days, during 
 which time they had many bloody skirmishes with the 
 enemy, the army approached Cairo. 
 
 Mourad Bey had there assembled the greater part of 
 his Mamelukes, nearly ten thousand in number, for a 
 decisive battle. These proud and powerful horsemen 
 were supported by twenty-four thousand foot-soldiers, 
 strongly intrenched. Cairo is on the eastern bank of the 
 Nile. Napoleon was marching along the western shore. 
 On the morning of the 21st of July, Napoleon, conscious 
 that he was near the city, set his army in motion before 
 the break of day. Just as the sun was rising in those 
 cloudless skies, the soldiers beheld the lofty minarets 
 of the city upon their left gilded by its rays, and upon 
 the right, upon the borders of the desert, the gigantic 
 
 247 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 pyramids rising like mountains upon an apparently 
 boundless plain. 
 
 The whole army instinctively halted, and gazed, awe- 
 stricken, upon those monuments of antiquity. The 
 face of Napoleon beamed with enthusiasm. "Sol- 
 diers!" he exclaimed, as he rode along the ranks, "from 
 those summits forty centuries contemplate your ac- 
 tions." The ardor of the soldiers was aroused to the 
 highest pitch. Animated by the clangor of martial 
 bands and the gleam of flaunting banners, they ad- 
 vanced with impetuous steps to meet their foes. The 
 whole plain before them, at the base of the pyramids, 
 was filled with armed men. The glittering weapons of 
 ten thousand horsemen, in the utmost splendor of bar- 
 baric chivalry, brilliant with plumes and arms of bur- 
 nished steel and gold, presented an array inconceivably 
 imposing. Undismayed, the French troops, marshaled 
 in five invincible squares, pressed on. There was no 
 other alternative. Napoleon must march upon those 
 intrenchments, behind which twenty-four thousand 
 men were stationed with powerful artillery and mus- 
 ketry to sweep his ranks, and a formidable body of ten 
 thousand horsemen, on fleet and powerful Arabian 
 steeds, awaiting the onset, and ready to seize upon the 
 slightest indication of confusion to plunge, with the 
 fury which fatalism can inspire, upon his bleeding and 
 mangled squares. 
 
 It must have been with Napoleon a moment of in- 
 tense anxiety. But as he sat upon his horse, in the 
 center of one of the squares, and carefully examined 
 with his telescope the disposition of the enemy, no one 
 could discern the least trace of uneasiness. His gaze 
 
 248 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 was long and intense. The keenness of his scrutiny de- 
 tected that the enemy's guns were not mounted upon 
 carriages, and that they could not, therefore, be turned 
 from the direction in which they were placed. No 
 other officer, though many of them had equally good 
 glasses, made this important discovery. He imme- 
 diately, by a lateral movement, guided his army to the 
 right, toward the pyramids, that his squares might be 
 out of the range of the guns, and that he might attack 
 the enemy in flank. The moment Mourad Bey per- 
 ceived this evolution, he divined its object, and, with 
 great military sagacity, resolved instantly to charge. 
 
 "You shall see us," said the proud Bey, "cut up those 
 dogs like gourds!" 
 
 It was, indeed, a fearful spectacle. Ten thousand 
 horsemen, magnificently dressed, with the fleetest steeds 
 in the world, urging their horses with bloody spurs 
 to the most impetuous and furious onset, rending the 
 heavens with their cries, and causing the very earth to 
 tremble beneath the thunder of iron feet, came down 
 upon the adamantine host. Nothing was ever seen in 
 war more furious than this charge. Ten thousand horse- 
 men form an enormous mass. Those longest inured to 
 danger felt that it was an awful moment. It seemed 
 impossible to resist such a Uving avalanche. The most 
 profound silence reigned through the ranks, interrupted 
 only by the word of command. The nerves of excite- 
 ment being roused to the utmost tension, every order 
 was executed with most marvelous rapidity and preci- 
 sion. The soldiers held their breath, and with bristling 
 bayonets stood shoulder to shoulder to receive the 
 shock. 
 
 249 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 The moment the Mamelukes arrived within gunshot, 
 the artillery at the angles ploughed their ranks, and pla- 
 toons of musketry, volley after volley, in uninterrupted 
 discharge, swept into their faces a pitiless tempest of 
 destruction. Horses and riders, struck by the balls, 
 rolled over each other by hundreds on the sand. They 
 were trampled and crushed by the iron hoofs of the 
 thousands of frantic steeds, enveloped in dust and 
 smoke, composing the vast and impetuous squadrons. 
 But the squares stood as firm as the pyramids at whose 
 base they fought. Not one was broken; and not one 
 wavered. The daring Mamelukes, in the frenzy of their 
 rage and disappointment, threw away their Uves with 
 the utmost recklessness. They wheeled their horses 
 round, and reined them back upon the ranks, that they 
 might kick their way into those terrible fortresses of 
 living men. Rendered furious by their inability to break 
 the ranks, they hurled their pistols and carbines at the 
 heads of the French. The wounded crawled along the 
 ground, and with their scimitars cut at the legs of their 
 indomitable foes. They displayed superhuman brav- 
 ery, the only virtue which the Mamelukes possessed. 
 
 But an incessant and merciless fire from Napoleon's 
 well-trained battaKons continually thinned their ranks, 
 and at last the Mamelukes, in the wildest disorder, 
 broke and fled. The infantry in the intrenched camp, 
 witnessing the utter discomfiture of the mounted troops, 
 whom they had considered invincible, and seeing such 
 incessant and volcanic sheets of flame bursting from 
 the impenetrable squares, caught the panic, and joined 
 the flight. Napoleon now, in his turn, charged with the 
 utmost impetuosity. A scene of indescribable confusion 
 
 250 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 and horror ensued. The extended plain was crowded 
 with fugitives — footmen and horsemen, bewildered 
 with terror, seeking escape from their terrible foes. 
 Thousands plunged into the river, and endeavored to 
 escape by swimming to the opposite shore. But a 
 shower of bullets, hke hailstones, fell upon them, and 
 the waves of the Nile were crimsoned with their blood. 
 Others sought the desert, a wild and rabble rout. 
 
 The victors, with their accustomed celerity, pur- 
 sued, pitilessly pouring into the dense masses of their 
 flying foes the most terrible discharges of artillery and 
 musketry. The rout was complete, the carnage awful. 
 The sun had hardly reached the meridian before the 
 whole embattled host had disappeared, and the plain, 
 as far as the eye could extend, was strewn with the 
 dying and the dead. The camp, with all its Oriental 
 wealth, fell into the hands of the victors, and the sol- 
 diers enriched themselves with its profusion of splendid 
 shawls, magnificent weapons, Arabian horses, and purses 
 filled with gold. The Mamelukes were accustomed to 
 lavish great wealth in the decoration of their persons, 
 and to carry with them large sums of money. The gold 
 and the trappings found upon the body of each Mame- 
 luke were worth from twelve hundred to two thousand 
 dollars. Besides those who were slain upon the field, 
 more than a thousand of these formidable horsemen 
 were drowned in the Nile. For many days the soldiers 
 employed themselves in fishing up the rich booty, and 
 the French camp was filled with all abundance. This 
 most sanguinary battle cost the French scarcely one 
 hundred men in killed and wounded. More than ten 
 thousand of the enemy perished. Napoleon gazed with 
 
 251 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 admiration upon the bravery which these proud horse- 
 men displayed. "Could I have united the Mameluke 
 horse to the French infantry," said he, "I should have 
 reckoned myself master of the world." 
 
 After the battle, Napoleon, now the undisputed con- 
 queror of Egypt, quartered himself for the night in the 
 country palace of Mourad Bey. The apartments of this 
 voluptuous abode were embellished with all the appur- 
 tenances of Oriental luxury. The oflQcers were struck 
 with surprise in viewing the multitude of cushions and 
 divans covered with the finest damasks and silks, and 
 ornamented with golden fringe. Egypt was beggared to 
 minister to the sensual indulgence of these haughty 
 despots. Much of the night was passed in exploring 
 this singular mansion. The garden was extensive and 
 exceedingly magnificent. Innumerable vines were laden 
 with the richest grapes. The vintage was soon gathered 
 by the thousands of soldiers who filled the alleys and 
 loitered in the arbors. Pots of preserves, of confection- 
 ery, and of sweetmeats of every kind, were quickly 
 devoured by an army of mouths. The thousands of 
 little elegancies which Europe, Asia, and Africa had 
 contributed to minister to the voluptuous splendors of 
 the regal mansion were speedily transferred to the knap- 
 sacks of the soldiers. 
 
 The ''Battle of the Pyramids," as Napoleon charac- 
 teristically designated it, sent a thrill of terror far and 
 wide into the interior of Asia and Africa. These proud, 
 merciless, Hcentious oppressors were execrated by the 
 timid Egyptians, but they were deemed invincible. In 
 an hour they had vanished like the mist before the 
 genius of Napoleon. 
 
 252 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 The caravans which came to Cairo circulated through 
 the vast regions of the interior, with all the embellish- 
 ments of Oriental exaggeration, glowing accounts of the 
 destruction of those terrible squadrons which had so 
 long tyrannized over Egypt, and the fame of whose 
 military prowess had caused the most distant tribes to 
 tremble. The name of Napoleon became suddenly as 
 renowned in Asia and Africa as it had previously be- 
 come in Europe. But twenty-one days had elapsed since 
 he placed his foot upon the sands at Alexandria, and 
 now he was sovereign of Egypt. 
 
HOHENLINDEN 
 
 [1800] 
 
 BY THOMAS CAMPBELL 
 
 [After the execution of King Louis XVI of France, coalitions 
 were formed by other nations of Europe in the determination 
 to restore the monarchy and repress the plans of Napoleon. 
 During what was known as the Second Coalition, the Aus- 
 trians were defeated at Marengo by Napoleon, then at Ho- 
 henlinden by Moreau. This brought about a treaty of peace 
 with Austria and Germany in 1801. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 On Linden when the sun was low, 
 All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 
 And dark as winter was the flow 
 Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 
 
 But Linden saw another sight 
 When the drum beat, at dead of night, 
 Commanding fires of death to light 
 The darkness of her scenery. 
 
 By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, 
 Each horseman drew his battle blade, 
 And furious each charger neighed, 
 To join the dreadful revelry. 
 
 Then shook the hills with thunder riven, 
 Then rushed the steed to battle driven, 
 And louder than the bolts of heaven 
 Far flashed the red artillery. 
 
 254 
 
HOHENLINDEN 
 
 But redder yet that light shall glow 
 On Linden's hills of stained snow, 
 And bloodier yet the torrent flow 
 Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 
 
 'T is morn, but scarce yon lurid sun 
 Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, 
 Where furious Frank and fiery Hun 
 Shout in their sulphurous canopy. 
 
 The combat deepens. On, ye brave, 
 Who rush to glory, or the grave! 
 Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave! 
 And charge with all thy chivalry! 
 
 Ah! few shall part where many meet! 
 The snow shall be their winding-sheet, 
 And every turf beneath their feet 
 Shall be a soldier's sepulcher. 
 
TRAFALGAR 
 
 [1805] 
 
 BY WILLIAM C. BENNETT 
 
 Northwest the wind was blowing 
 
 Our good ships running free; 
 Seven leagues lay Cape Trafalgar 
 
 Away upon our lee; 
 'T was then, as broke the morning, 
 
 The Frenchman we descried, 
 East away, there they lay, 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 That was a sight to see, boys, 
 
 On which that morning shone; 
 We counted three-and-thirty, 
 
 Mounseer and stately Don; 
 And plain their great three-deckers 
 
 Amongst them we descried, — 
 "Safe," we said, "for Spithead," 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 Then Nelson spoke to Hardy, 
 
 Upon his face the smile, 
 The very look he wore when 
 We beat them at the Nile! 
 "We must have twenty, Hardy," 
 'T was thus the hero cried; 
 And we had twenty, lads. 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 256 
 
TRAFALGAR 
 
 Up went his latest signal ; 
 
 Ah, well, my boys, he knew 
 That not a man among us 
 
 But would his duty do ! 
 And as the signal flew, boys, 
 
 With shouts each crew replied; 
 How we cheered as we neared 
 
 The foe, when Nelson died! 
 
 We led the weather column, 
 
 But Collingwood, ahead, 
 A mile from all, the lee line 
 
 Right through the Frenchman led; 
 "And what would Nelson give to 
 
 Be here with us!" he cried, 
 As he bore through their roar 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 Well, on the Victory stood, boys, 
 
 With every sail full spread; 
 And as we neared them slowly 
 
 There was but little said. 
 There were thoughts of home amongst us, 
 
 And as their line we eyed, 
 Here and there, perhaps, a prayer, 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 A gun, — the Bucentaure first 
 
 Began with us the game; 
 Another, — then their broadsides 
 
 From all sides through us came; 
 
 257 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 With men fast falling round us, 
 
 While not a gun replied, 
 With sails rent, on we went, 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 "Steer for their admiral's flag, boys!" 
 
 But where it flew none knew; 
 "Then make for that four-decker," 
 Said Nelson, " men, she '11 do! " 
 So, at their Trinidada, 
 
 To get we straightway tried. 
 As we broke through their smoke, 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 'T was where they clustered thickest 
 
 That through their line we broke, 
 And to their Bucentaure first 
 
 Our thundering broadside spoke, 
 We shaved her; — as our shots, boys. 
 
 Crashed through her shattered side, 
 She could feel how to keel, 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 Into the Don's four-decker 
 
 Our larboard broadsides pour, 
 Though all we well could spare her 
 
 Went to the Bucentaure. 
 Locked to another Frenchman, 
 
 Our starboard fire we plied, 
 Gun to gun, till we won, 
 
 That day that Nelson died. 
 
 258 
 
TRAFALGAR 
 
TRAFALGAR 
 
 "They've done for me at last, friend!" 
 
 'T was thus they heard him say, 
 "But I die as I would die, boys, 
 Upon this glorious day; 
 I've done my duty, Hardy," 
 
 He cried, and still he cried, — 
 As below, sad and slow, 
 We bore him as he died. 
 
 On wounded and on dying 
 
 The cockpit's lamp shone dim; 
 But many a groan we heard, lads, 
 
 Less for themselves than him. 
 And many a one among them 
 
 Had given, and scarcely sighed, 
 A limb to save him 
 
 Who there in glory died. 
 
 As slowly life ebbed from him 
 
 His thoughts were still the same: 
 "How many have we now, boys?" 
 
 Still faint and fainter came. 
 As ship on ship struck to us 
 
 His glazing eyes with pride. 
 As it seemed, flashed and gleamed. 
 
 As he knew he conquering died. 
 
 We beat them — how, you know, boys, 
 
 Yet many an eye was dim; 
 And when we talked of triumph, 
 
 We only thought of him. 
 
 259 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 And still, though fifty years, boys, 
 Have gone, who, without pride, 
 
 Names his name, — tells his fame, 
 Who at Trafalgar died! 
 
THE CROSSING OF THE BERESINA RIVER 
 
 [1812I 
 
 BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 
 
 The river Beresina flows rapidly along its channel a few 
 miles beyond Borisoflf. The retreating Russians had 
 destroyed the bridge. Upon the opposite bank of the 
 river they had planted very formidable batteries. 
 Napoleon remained two days at Borisoff refreshing his 
 troops. On the 25th, a variety of movements were made 
 to deceive the enemy as to the point at which he intended 
 to cross the river. In the mean time, with secrecy, 
 arrangements were made for constructing a bridge where 
 a dense forest would conceal their operations from view. 
 The Russians, in vast numbers, occupied the adjacent 
 heights. The French troops were secreted all day in the 
 woods, ready to commence the construction of the bridge 
 the moment night should come. Hardly had the winter's 
 sun gone down behind the frozen hills ere they sprang 
 to their work. No fire could be allowed. They worked 
 through the long and dark night, many of them often 
 up to their necks in water, and struggling against im- 
 mense masses of ice, which were floated down by the 
 stream. The tires of the wheels were wrenched off for 
 cramp-irons, and cottages were torn down for timber. 
 
 Napoleon superintended the work in person, toiling 
 with the rest. He uttered not a word which could indi- 
 cate any want of confidence in this desperate adventure. 
 He was surrounded by three armies, constituting a mass 
 
 261 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 of one hundred and fifty thousand men. " In this situa- 
 tion," says the Russian historian Boutourlin, "the most 
 perilous in which he had ever found himself, the great 
 captain was in no way inferior to himself. Without 
 allowing himself to be dismayed by the imminence of his 
 danger, he dared to measure it with the eye of genius, 
 and still found resources when a general less skillful and 
 less determined would not even have suspected its pos- 
 sibility." 
 
 The French generals deemed the passage of the river 
 utterly impracticable. Rapp, Mortier, and Ney de- 
 clared that, if escape were now effected, they should for- 
 ever after believe in the emperor's protecting star. Even 
 Murat, constitutionally bold and reckless as he was, 
 declared that it was time to relinquish all thoughts of 
 rescuing any but the emperor, on whose fate the salva- 
 tion of France depended. The soldiers in the ranks ex- 
 pressed similar fears and desires. Some Polish officers 
 volunteered to extricate Napoleon by guiding him 
 through obscure paths in the forest to the frontiers of 
 Prussia. Poniatowski, who commanded the Polish divi- 
 sion, offered to pledge his life for the success of the enter- 
 prise; but Napoleon promptly rejected the suggestion as 
 implying a cowardly and dishonorable flight. He would 
 not forsake the army in this hour of its greatest peril. 
 
 "Napoleon," says Segur, "at once rejected this proj- 
 ect as infamous, as being a cowardly flight; he was indig- 
 nant that any one should dare to think for a moment 
 that he would abandon his army so long as it was in 
 danger. He was, however, not at all displeased with 
 Murat, either because that prince, in making the propo- 
 sition, had afforded him an opportunity of showing his 
 
 262 
 
THE CROSSING OF THE BERESINA RIVER 
 
 firmness, or, what is more probable, because he saw in it 
 nothing but a mark of devotion, and because in the eyes 
 of a sovereign, the first quality is attachment to his 
 person." 
 
 At last the day faintly dawned in the east. The Rus- 
 sian watch-fires began to pale. Napoleon, by the move- 
 ments of the preceding day, had effectually deceived his 
 foes. The bewildered Russian admiral consequently 
 commenced withdrawing his forces from Studzianca just 
 as Napoleon commenced concentrating his army there. 
 The French generals, who were anxiously, with their 
 glasses, peering through the dusk of the morning to the 
 opposite heights, could hardly believe their eyes when 
 they saw the Russians rapidly retreating. The Russians 
 had received orders to hasten to a point some eighteen 
 miles down the river, where the admiral was convinced,, 
 by the false demonstrations of Napoleon, that the 
 French intended to attempt the passage. 
 
 Oudinot and Rapp hastened to the emperor with the 
 joyful tidings. Napoleon exclaimed, "Then I have out- 
 witted the admiral I" A squadron of horsemen swam, 
 on their skeleton steeds, through the icy waves, and took 
 possession of the opposite bank. The bridge was soon 
 finished, and two Hght rafts were constructed. The pas- 
 sage of the troops was now urged with the utmost rapid- 
 ity. In the course of a few hours the engineers succeeded 
 in constructing another bridge for the transportation of 
 the baggage and the cannon. During the whole of that 
 bleak winter's day, and of the succeeding night, the 
 French army, with its encumbering multitude of strag- 
 glers, were crowding across these narrow defiles. In the 
 mean time the Russians began to return. They planted 
 
 » 263 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 their batteries upon the adjacent heights, and swept the 
 bridge with a storm of cannon balls. Eariy in the morn- 
 ing of the 27th, the foe had accumulated in such num- 
 bers as to be prepared to make a simultaneous attack 
 upon the French on both sides of the river. Napoleon 
 had crossed with the advanced guard. On attaining the 
 right bank of the river, he exclaimed, "My star still 
 reigns!" 
 
 An awful conflict now ensued. The Russians were 
 impelled by the conj&dence of success; the French were 
 nerved by the energies of despair. In the midst of this 
 demoniac scene of horror, mutilation, and blood, a fear- 
 ful tempest arose, howling through the dark forests, and 
 sweeping with hurricane fury over the embattling hosts. 
 One of the frail bridges broke beneath the weight of ar- 
 tillery, baggage, and troops with which it was burdened. 
 A vast and frenzied crowd were struggling at the heads 
 of the bridges. Cannon balls ploughed through the liv- 
 ing, tortured mass. They trampled upon each other. 
 Multitudes were crowded into the stream, and with 
 shrieks which pierced through the thunders of the battle, 
 sank beneath the floating ice. The genius of Napoleon 
 was never more conspicuous than on this occasion. It is 
 the testimony alike of friend and foe, that no other man 
 could have accomplished what he accomplished in the 
 awful passage of the Beresina. 
 
 Undismayed by the terrific scene and by the magnitude 
 ■of his peril, he calmly studied all his chances, and, with 
 his feeble band, completely thwarted and overthrew his 
 multitudinous foes. It is difficult to ascertain the precise 
 numbers in this engagement. According to Segur, who 
 is perhaps the best authority to whom we can refer, 
 
 264 
 
PASSAGE OF THE BERESINA 
 
THE CROSSING OF THE BERESINA RIVER 
 
 Napoleon had but twenty-seven thousand fighting men, 
 and these were exhausted, half famished, and miserably 
 clothed and armed. There were also forty thousand 
 stragglers and wounded embarrassing his movements 
 and claiming his care. Sixty thousand Russians, well 
 fed and perfectly armed, surrounded him. General 
 Wittgenstein, with forty thousand effective men, 
 marched upon the portion of the army which had not 
 yet crossed the stream. Marshal Victor, with but six 
 thousand men, baffled all his efforts, and for hours held 
 this vast force at bay. Admiral Tchitchagoff, with 
 twenty thousand men, attacked the columns which had 
 crossed. Ney, with eight thousand troops, plunged into 
 the dense mass of foes, drove them before him, and took 
 six thousand prisoners. 
 
 Through all these awful hours the engineers worked in 
 preserving and repairing the bridges, with coolness which 
 no perils could disturb. The darkness of the night put 
 no end to the conflict. The Russians trained their guns 
 to bear upon the confused mass of men, horses, and 
 wagons crowding and overwhelming the bridges. 
 
 In the midst of all the horrors of the scene, a little 
 boat, carrying a mother and her two children, was over- 
 turned by the floating ice. A soldier plunged from the 
 bridge into the river, and, by great exertions, saved the 
 youngest of the two children. The poor little thing, in 
 tones of despair, kept crying for its mother. The tender- 
 hearted soldier was heard endeavoring to soothe it, say- 
 ing, "Do not cry. I will not abandon you. You shall 
 want for nothing. I will be your father." 
 
 Women were in the midst of the stream, struggling 
 against the floating ice, with their children in their 
 
 265 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 arms; and when the mother was completely submerged 
 in the cold flood, her stiffened arms were seen still hold- 
 ing her child above the waves. Across this bridge the 
 soldiers bore tenderly the orphan child which Marshal 
 Ney had saved at Smolensk. 
 
 Many persons were crushed and ground to pieces by 
 the rush of heavy carriages. Bands of soldiers cleared 
 their way across the bridge, through the encumbering 
 crowd, with their bayonets and their swords. The 
 wounded and the dead were trampled miserably under 
 their feet. Night came, cold, dark, and dreary, and did 
 but increase these awful calamities. Everything was 
 covered with snow. The black mass of men, horses, and 
 carriages, traversing this white surface, enabled the Rus- 
 sian artillerymen, from the heights which they occupied, 
 unerringly to direct their fire. The howling of the tem- 
 pest, the gloom of midnight, the incessant flash and roar 
 of artillery, the sweep of cannon balls through the dense 
 mass, and the frightful explosion of shells, the whistling 
 of bullets, the vociferations and shouts of the soldiers, 
 the shrieks of the wounded and despairing, and the wild 
 hurrahs of the Cossacks, presented one of the most appall- 
 ing scenes which demoniac war has ever exhibited. The 
 record alone one would think enough to appall the most 
 selfish and merciless lover of military glory. At last 
 Victor, having protected the passage of all the regular 
 troops, led his vahant corps across, and set fire to the 
 bridges. The number lost on this occasion has never 
 been ascertained. When the ice melted in the spring, 
 twelve thousand dead bodies were dragged from the 
 river. 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 [1815] 
 
 BY DOUGLAS BROOKE WHEELTON SLADEN 
 
 ["The battle of Waterloo was fought on a glorious day in 
 June; a Sabbath day, clear and warm after the heavy rain 
 of the night, which had entirely ceased ere the roar of battle 
 began. At home, mothers and sisters and sweethearts were 
 praying for the safety of those dear to them who were about 
 to engage in deadly combat. It was while these loved ones 
 were engaged in their devotions at church that the battle 
 commenced, and from many a maiden's heart, in Kent and 
 elsewhere, went out a fervent petition asking divine protec- 
 tion for the one dearer to her than life; and many a noble 
 boy fought better and died more heroically that awful day, 
 knowing that such a woman was praying for him."] 
 
 "What struck?" 
 
 ''Half-past ten o'clock." 
 As over his saddle-bow he bent, 
 He thought of the village church in Kent, 
 And said, "She'll be kneeling soon to pray — 
 Perhaps for me, on this Sabbath day." 
 
 Ping! ping! 
 
 Hark the bullets wing! 
 Their cuirassiers sweep across the plain. 
 "Charge them, our Life Guards!" — They turn again; 
 While English beauty is on its knees 
 For English valor across the seas. 
 
 267 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 There goes 
 
 The Vanguard of the foes! 
 They've taken the wood by Hougoumont! 
 " Coldstreams and Fusiliers to the front!" 
 Taken again, lads! that's not amiss; 
 Your sweethearts at home will boast of this. 
 
 Pell-mell, 
 
 Bullet, shot, and shell 
 
 Rained on our infantry thick and fast; 
 
 Many a stout heart will beat its last; 
 
 Blue eyes will moisten many a day 
 
 For good lives lightly given away. 
 
 Crash, clash, 
 
 Like a torrent's dash, 
 
 Lancer and cuirassier leap on the square! 
 
 Scarcely a third of the bayonets there. 
 
 Ye who would look on old England again. 
 
 Now must ye prove yourselves Englishmen. 
 
 Stamp, stamp, 
 
 With its even tramp, 
 
 Rolls uphill the invincible Guard: 
 
 Falters it at the fiftieth yard ? 
 
 Weak, worn, and oft assaulted the foe, 
 
 Yet never its heart misgave it so. 
 
 On, on. 
 
 And the fight is won! 
 
 Shot-stricken hnesman and thrice-charged Guard 
 
 Glare at them lion-like, hungry and hard; 
 
 268 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 His waiting is done — his hour has come; 
 Pent-up fierceness drives bayonets home. 
 
 On, on, 
 
 Life Guard and Dragoon! 
 
 An English charge and a red right hand 
 
 Will bring fair years to your fair old land. 
 
 With riven corselet and shivered lance, 
 
 Is reft and shivered the pride of France. 
 
 Still, still, 
 
 In the moonlight chill, 
 A dying Dragoon looks up to a friend: 
 'Tell her I did my part to the end — 
 Tell her I died as an Enghshman should — • 
 And give her — her handkerchief — it is my blood." 
 
 There went. 
 
 From a church in Kent, 
 
 An eager and anxious prayer to God 
 
 For lovers, brothers, and sons abroad : 
 
 The fairest and noblest prayed for one — 
 
 Neither lover, nor brother, nor son. 
 
 A calm 
 
 After hymn and psalm: 
 
 The preacher in silent thought is bowed, 
 
 Ere he gives out the bidding prayer aloud. 
 
 Hark! what can that long, dull booming be, 
 
 Swept by the east wind across the sea? 
 
 Boom, boom. 
 
 Like the voice of doom! 
 
 269 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 The preacher has fought, and knows full well 
 The message that booming has to tell, 
 And gives out his text: "Let God arise, 
 And he shall scatter our enemies." 
 
 One night 
 
 In two memories bright; 
 One golden hour unwatched at a ball, 
 A kerchief taken or given was all. 
 "Off to the war to-morrow — good-bye — 
 I'll carry it with me until I die!" 
 
 He is dead! 
 "You have come," she said, 
 "To bring me tidings of him I loved? 
 
 Your face has told me your tale — he proved 
 
 Worthy the name I did not know, 
 
 The man that I thought him a year ago." 
 
 "He died 
 With stern English pride. 
 But lived to fight the great battle through; 
 His last words were of England and you; 
 He died as an English gentleman should, 
 And sent you — your handkerchief — rich with his 
 blood." 
 
 "Ah me! 
 
 Life is sad," moaned she, 
 "When all the sun in its sky hath flown!" 
 
 And "One loving bosom is very lone." 
 
 And "Oh, if I might lie by you 
 
 In your soldier's grave at Waterloo!" 
 
 270 
 
"SCOTLAND FOREVER!" 
 THE CHARGE OF THE SCOTS GREYS AT WATERLOO 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 [1815] 
 
 BY VICTOR ETUGO 
 THE EMPEROR PUTS A QUESTION TO THE GUIDE LACOSTE 
 
 At the moment when Wellington drew back, Napoleon 
 started up. He saw the plateau of Mont St. -Jean sud- 
 denly laid bare and the front of the English army disap- 
 pear. It rallied, but kept concealed. The Emperor half 
 rose in his stirrups. The flash of a victory passed into 
 his eyes. 
 
 Wellington hurled back on the Forest of Soignes and 
 destroyed; that was the final overthrow of England by 
 France; it was Cressy, Poitiers, Malplaquet, and Ra- 
 millies avenged. The man of Marengo was wiping out 
 Agincourt. 
 
 The Emperor, then, contemplating this terrible turn 
 of fortune, swept his glass for the last time over every 
 point of the battle-field. His Guard, standing behind, 
 with grounded arms, looked up to him with a sort of re- 
 ligion. He was reflecting; he was examining the slopes, 
 noting the ascents, scrutinizing the tufts of the trees, 
 the square rye field, the footpath; he seemed to count 
 every bush. He looked for some time at the English 
 barricades on the two roads, two large abattis of trees, 
 that on the Genappe road above La Haye Sainte, armed 
 with two cannon, which alone, of all the English artil- 
 lery, bore upon the bottom of the field of battle, and 
 that of the Nivelles road, where glistened the Dutch 
 
 271 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 bayonets of Chasse's brigade. He noticed near that bar- 
 ricade the old chapel of St. Nicholas, painted white, 
 which is at the corner of the cross-road toward Braine 
 I'AUeud. He bent over and spoke in an undertone to the 
 guide Lacoste. The guide made a negative sign of the 
 head, probably treacherous. 
 
 The Emperor rose up and reflected. Wellington had 
 fallen back. It remained only to complete this repulse 
 by a crushing charge. 
 
 Napoleon, turning abruptly, sent off a courier at 
 full speed to Paris to announce that the battle was 
 won. 
 
 Napoleon was one of those geniuses who rule the 
 thunder. 
 
 He had found his thunderbolt. 
 
 He ordered Milhaud's cuirassiers to carry the plateau 
 of Mont St.-Jean. 
 
 THE UNLOOKED-FOR 
 
 They were 3500. They formed a line of half a mile. 
 They were gigantic men on colossal horses. There were 
 twenty-six squadrons, and they had behind them, as a 
 support, the division of Lefebvre-Desnouettes, the 106 
 gensdarmes d'elite, the chasseurs of the guard, 1 197 men, 
 and the lancers of the guard, 880 lances. They wore 
 casques without plumes, and cuirasses of wrought iron, 
 with horse pistols in their holsters and long saber-swords. 
 In the morning they had been the admiration of the 
 whole army, when, at 9 o'clock, with trumpets sounding, 
 and all the bands playing " Veillons ausalutdel'empire," 
 they came, in heavy columns, one of their batteries on 
 their flank, the other at their center, and deployed in 
 
 272 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 two ranks between the Genappe road and Frischemont, 
 and took their position of battle in this powerful sec- 
 ond line, so wisely made up by Napoleon, which, having 
 at its extreme left the cuirassiers of Kellermann and at 
 its extreme right the cuirassiers of Milhaud, had, so to 
 speak, two wings of iron. 
 
 Aide-de-camp Bernard brought them the Emperor's 
 order. Ney drew his sword and placed himself at their 
 head. The enormous squadrons began to move. 
 
 Then was seen a fearful sight. 
 
 All this cavalry, with sabers drawn, banners waving, 
 and trumpets sounding, formed in column by divisions, 
 descended with an even movement and as one man — 
 with the precision of a bronze battering-ram opening a 
 breach — the hill of La Belle-Alliance, sank into the for- 
 midable depths where so many men had already fallen, 
 disappeared in the smoke, then rising from this valley 
 of shadow reappeared on the other side, still compact 
 and serried, mounting at full trot, through a cloud of 
 grape emptying itself upon them, the frightful acclivity 
 of mud of the plateau of Mont St.-Jean. They rose, se- 
 rious and menacing, imperturbable; in the intervals of 
 the musketry and artillery could be heard the sound of 
 this colossal tramp. Being in two divisions, they formed 
 two columns; Wathier's division had the right, Delord's 
 the left. From a distance they would be taken for two 
 immense serpents of steel stretching themselves to- 
 ward the crest of the plateau. That ran through the 
 battle Hke a prodigy. 
 
 Nothing like it had been seen since the taking of the 
 grand redoubt at La Moscowa, by the heavy cavalry; 
 Murat was not there, but Ney was there. It seemed as 
 
 273 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 if this mass had become a monster, and had but a single 
 mind. Each squadron undulated and swelled like the 
 ring of a polyp. They could be seen through the thick 
 smoke as it was broken here and there. It was one pell- 
 mell of casques, cries, sabers, a furious bounding of 
 horses among the cannon, and the flourish of trumpets, 
 a terrible and disciplined tumult; over all the cuirasses, 
 like the scales of a hydra. 
 
 These recitals appear to belong to another age. Some- 
 thing like this vision appeared, doubtless, in the old 
 Orphic epics which tell of centaurs, antique happan- 
 thropes, those titans with human faces, and chests like 
 horses, whose gallop scaled Olympus, horrible, invulner- 
 able, sublime; at once gods and beasts. 
 
 An odd numerical coincidence, twenty-six battalions, 
 were to receive these twenty-six squadrons. Behind the. 
 crest of the plateau, under cover of the masked battery, 
 the English infantry formed in thirteen squares, two 
 battalions to the square and upon two lines — seven on 
 the first and six on the second — with musket to the 
 shoulder, and eye upon their sights, waiting calm, silent, 
 and immovable. They could not see the cuirassiers, 
 and the cuirassiers could not see them. They listened to 
 the rising of this tide of men. They heard the increasing 
 sound of three thousand horses, the alternate and meas- 
 ured striking of their hoofs at full trot, the rattling of the 
 cuirasses, the clicking of sabers, and a sort of fierce roar 
 of the coming host. There was a moment of fearful si- 
 lence; then, suddenly a long line of raised arms bran- 
 dishing sabers appeared above the crest, with casques, 
 trumpets, and standards, and three thousand faces with 
 gray mustaches^ crying, ^'Vive VEmpereurl'' All this 
 
 274 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 cavalry debouched on the plateau, and it was like the 
 beginning of an earthquake. 
 
 All at once, tragic to relate, at the left of the English, 
 and on our right, the head of the column of cuirassiers 
 reared with a frightful clamor. Arrived at the culmi- 
 nating point of the crest, unmanageable, full of fury, 
 and bent upon the extermination of the squares and 
 cannons, the cuirassiers saw between themselves and 
 the English a ditch, a grave. It was the sunken road of 
 Ohain. 
 
 It was a frightful moment. There was the ravine, un- 
 looked for, yawning at the very feet of the horses, two 
 fathoms deep between its double slope. The second 
 rank pushed in the first, the third pushed in the second, 
 the horses reared, threw themselves over, fell upon their 
 backs and struggled with their feet in the air, piling 
 up and overturning their riders, no power to retreat; the 
 whole column was nothing but a projectile. The force 
 acquired to crush the English crushed the French. The 
 inexorable ravine could not yield until it was filled; 
 riders and horses rolled in together pell-mell, grinding 
 each other, making common flesh in this dreadful gulf, 
 and when this grave was full of living men the rest 
 marched over them and passed on. Almost a third of 
 the Dubois' brigade sank into this abyss. 
 
 Here the loss of the battle began. 
 
 A local tradition, which evidently exaggerates, says 
 that two thousand horses and fifteen hundred men 
 were buried in the sunken road of Ohain. This un- 
 doubtedly comprises all the other bodies thrown into 
 this ravine on the morrow after the battle. 
 
 Napoleon, before ordering this charge of Milhaud's 
 
 275 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 cuirassiers, had examined the ground, but could not see 
 this hollow road, which did not make even a wrinkle on 
 the surface of the plateau. Warned, however, and put 
 on his guard by the little white chapel which marks its 
 junction with the Nivelles road, he had, probably, on 
 the contingency of an obstacle, put a question to the 
 guide, Lacoste. The guide had answered no. It may 
 almost be said that from this shake of a peasant's head 
 came the catastrophe of Napoleon. 
 
 Still other fatalities must arise. 
 
 Was it possible that Napoleon should win this battle? 
 We answer — no! Why? Because of Wellington? Be- 
 cause of Bliicher? No! Because of God. 
 
 For Bonaparte to be conqueror at Waterloo was not 
 in the law of the nineteenth century. Another series of 
 facts were preparing in which Napoleon had no place. 
 The ill will of events had long been announced. 
 
 It was time that this vast man should fall. 
 
 The excessive weight of this man in human destiny 
 disturbed the equilibrium. This individual counted of 
 himself more than the universe besides. These pleth- 
 oras of all human vitality concentrated in a single 
 head, the world mounting to the brain of one man, 
 would be fatal to civilization if they should endure. The 
 moment had come for incorruptible supreme equity to 
 look to it. Probably the principles and elements upon 
 which regular gravitations in the moral order as well 
 as in the material depend, began to murmur. Reeking 
 blood, overcrowded cemeteries, weeping mothers, — 
 these are formidable pleaders. When the earth is suffer- 
 ing from a surcharge, there are mysterious meanings 
 from the deeps which the heavens hear. 
 
 276 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 Napoleon had been impeached before the infinite and 
 his fall was decreed. 
 
 He vexed God. 
 
 Waterloo is not a battle; it is the change of front of 
 the universe. 
 
 THE PLATEAU OF MONT ST.-JEAN 
 
 At the same time with the ravine, the artillery was 
 unmasked. 
 
 Sixty cannon and thirteen squares thundered and 
 flashed into the cuirassiers. The brave General Delord 
 gave the military salute to the EngHsh battery. 
 
 All the English flying artillery took position in the 
 squares at a gallop. The cuirassiers had not even time 
 to breathe. The disaster of the sunken road had deci- 
 mated but not discouraged them. They were men 
 who, diminished in number, grew greater in heart. 
 
 Wathier's column alone had suffered from the disas- 
 ter; Delord's which Ney had sent obliquely to the left, 
 as if he had a presentiment of the snare, arrived entire. 
 
 The cuirassiers hurled themselves upon the English 
 squares. 
 
 At full gallop, with free rein, their sabers in their 
 teeth, and their pistols in their hands, the attack be- 
 gan. 
 
 There are moments in battle when the soul hardens 
 a man even to changing the soldier into a statue, and all 
 this flesh becomes granite. The English battalions, des- 
 perately assailed, did not yield an inch. 
 
 Then it was frightful. 
 
 All sides of the English squares were attacked at once. 
 A whirlwind of frenzy enveloped them. This frigid in- 
 
 277 
 
THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 fantry remained impassible. The first rank, with knee 
 on the ground, received the cuirassiers on their bayonets, 
 the second shot them down; behind the second rank, 
 the cannoneers loaded their guns, the front of the square 
 opened, made way for an eruption of grape, and closed 
 again. The cuirassiers answered by rushing upon them 
 with crushing force. Their great horses reared, tram- 
 pled upon the ranks, leaped over the bayonets and fell, 
 gigantic in the midst of these four Hving walls. The 
 balls made gaps in the ranks of the cuirassiers, the cui- 
 rassiers made breaches in the squares. Files of men dis- 
 appeared, ground down beneath the horses' feet. Bay- 
 onets were buried in the bellies of these centaurs. Hence 
 a monstrosity of wounds never, perhaps, seen elsewhere. 
 The squares, consumed by this furious cavalry, closed 
 up, without wavering. Inexhaustible in grape, they 
 kept up an explosion in the midst of their assailants. It 
 was a monstrous sight. These squares were battalions 
 no longer, they were craters; these cuirassiers were cav- 
 alry no longer, the}'^ were a tempest. Each square was a 
 volcano attacked by a thunder-cloud; the lava fought 
 with the lightning. 
 
 The square, on the extreme right, the most exposed of 
 all, being in the open field, was almost annihilated at 
 the first shock. It was formed of the 75th Regiment of 
 Highlanders. The piper in the center, while the work of 
 extermination was going on, profoundly oblivious of all 
 about him, casting dov/n his melancholy eye full of the 
 shadows of forests and lakes, seated upon a drum, his 
 bagpipe under his arm, was playing his mountain airs. 
 These Scotchmen died thinking of Ben Lothian, as the 
 Greeks died remembering Argo. The saber of a cuiras- 
 
 278 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 sier, striking down the pibroch and the arm which bore 
 it, caused the strain to cease by killing the player. 
 
 The cuirassiers, relatively few in number, lessened 
 by the catastrophe of the ravine, had to contend with 
 almost the whole of the English army; but they multi- 
 plied themselves ; each man became equal to ten. Never- 
 theless, some Hanoverian battalions fell back. Welling- 
 ton saw it and remembered his cavalry. Had Napoleon, 
 at that very moment, remembered his infantry, he 
 would have won the battle. This forgetfulness was his 
 great, fatal blunder. 
 
 Suddenly the assailing cuirassiers perceived that they 
 were assailed. The English cavalry was upon their 
 back. Before them, the squares, behind them Somerset; 
 Somerset with the fourteen hundred dragoon guards. 
 Somerset had on his right Dornberg, with his German 
 light horse, and on his left Trip, with the Belgian carbi- 
 neers. The cuirassiers, attacked front, flank, and rear, 
 by infantry and cavalry, were compelled to face in all 
 directions. What was that to them? They were a whirl- 
 wind. Their valor became unspeakable. 
 
 Besides, they had behind them the ever-thundering 
 artillery. All that was necessary in order to wound such 
 men in the back. One of their cuirasses, with a hole in 
 the left shoulder blade, made by a musket ball, is in 
 the collection of the Waterloo Museum. 
 
 With such Frenchmen only such Englishmen could 
 cope. 
 
 It was no longer a conflict; it was a darkness, a fury, 
 a giddy vortex of souls and courage, a hurricane of sword 
 flashes. In an instant the fourteen hundred horse 
 guards were but eight hundred. Fuller, their lieutenant- 
 
 279 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 colonel, fell dead. Ney rushed up with the lancers and 
 chasseurs of Lefebvre-Desnouettes. The plateau of 
 Mont St.-Jean was taken, retaken, and taken again. 
 The cuirassiers left the cavalry to return to the infantry, 
 or, more correctly, all this terrible multitude wrestled 
 with each other without letting go their hold. The 
 squares still held. There were twelve assaults. Ney had 
 four horses killed under him. Half of the cuirassiers lay 
 on the plateau. This struggle lasted two hours. 
 
 The English army was terribly shaken. There is no 
 doubt, if they had not been crippled in their first shock 
 by the disaster of the sunken road, the cuirassiers would 
 have overwhelmed the center and decided the victory. 
 This wonderful cavalry astounded Clinton, who had 
 seen Talavera and Badajos. Wellington, though three 
 fourths conquered, was struck with heroic admiration. 
 He said, in a low voice, " Splendid!" 
 
 The cuirassiers annihilated seven squares out of thir- 
 teen, took or spiked sixty pieces of cannon, and took 
 from the English regiments six colors, which three cui- 
 rassiers and three chasseurs of the guard carried to the 
 Emperor before the farm of La Belle- Alliance. 
 
 The situation of Wellington was growing worse. This 
 strange battle was like a duel between two wounded 
 infuriates, who, while yet fighting and resisting, lose all 
 their blood. Which of the two shall fall first? 
 
 The struggle of the plateau continued. 
 
 How far did the cuirassiers penetrate? None can tell. 
 One thing is certain: the day after the battle a cuirassier 
 and his horse were found dead under the frame of the 
 hay-scales at Mont St.-Jean, at the point where the four 
 roads from Nivelles, Genappe, La Hulpe, and Brussels 
 
 280 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 meet. This horseman had pierced the English lines. 
 One of the men who took away the body still Hves at 
 Mont St.-Jean. His name is Dehaze; he was then eight- 
 een years old. 
 
 Wellington felt he was giving away. The crisis was 
 upon him. The cuirassiers had not succeeded, in this 
 sense, that the center was not broken. All holding the 
 plateau, nobody held it; and, in fact, it remained for the 
 most part with the EngHsh. Wellington held the village 
 and the crowning plain. Ney held only the crest and the 
 slope. On both sides they seemed rooted in this funeral 
 soil. 
 
 But the enfeeblement of the English appeared irre- 
 mediable. The hemorrhage of this army was horrible. 
 Kempt, on the left wing, called for reinforcements. 
 "Impossible," answered Wellington, "we must die on 
 the spot we now occupy." Almost at the same moment 
 — singular coincidence, which depicts the exhaustion of 
 both armies — Ney sent to Napoleon for infantry, and 
 Napoleon exclaimed: "Infantry! where does he expect 
 me to take them? Does he expect me to make them?" 
 
 However, the English army was farthest gone. The 
 furious onslaughts of these great squadrons, with iron 
 cuirasses and steel breastplates had ground up the 
 infantry. A few men about a flag marked the place of a 
 regiment; battalions were now commanded by captains 
 or Heutenants. Alten's division, already so cut up at La 
 Haye Sainte, was almost destroyed; the intrepid Bel- 
 gians of Van Kluze's brigade strewed the rye field along 
 the Nivelles road; there were hardly any left of those 
 Dutch grenadiers who, in 1811, joined to our ranks in 
 Spain, fought against Wellington, and who, in 181 5, 
 
 281 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 rallied on the English side, fought against Napoleon. 
 The loss of officers was heavy. Lord Uxbridge, who 
 buried his leg next day, had a knee fractured. If, on 
 the side of the French, in this struggle of the cuirassiers, 
 Delord, I'Heriter, Colbert, Dnop, Travers, and Blan- 
 card were hors de combat, on the side of the English 
 Alten was wounded, Barne was wounded, Delancey was 
 killed, Van Meeren was killed. Ompteda was killed, the 
 entire staff of Wellington was decimated, and Eng- 
 land had the worst share in this balance of blood. The 
 2d Regiment of foot guards had lost five Heutenant- 
 colonels, four captains and three ensigns; the first bat- 
 talion of the 30th Infantry had lost twenty-four officers 
 and one hundred and twelve soldiers; the 79th High- 
 landers had twenty-four officers wounded, eighteen 
 officers killed, and four hundred and fifty soldiers slain. 
 Cumberland's Hanoverian hussars, an entire regiment, 
 having at its head Colonel Hacke, who was afterward 
 court-martialed and broken, had drawn rein before the 
 fight, and were in ffight in the Forest of Soignes, spread- 
 ing the panic as far as Brussels. Carts, ammunition- 
 wagons, baggage-wagons, ambulances full of wounded, 
 seeing the French gain ground and approach the forest, 
 fled precipitately; the Dutch, sabered by the French 
 cavalry cried "Murder!" From Vert Coucoa to Groe- 
 nendael, for a distance of nearly six miles in the direction 
 toward Brussels, the roads, according to the testimony 
 of witnesses still aHve, were choked with fugitives. This 
 panic was such that it reached the Prince of Conde at 
 Malines, and Louis XVIII at Ghent. With the excep- 
 tion of the small reserve drawn up in echelon behind 
 the hospital established at the farm of Mont St.- Jean, 
 
 282 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 and the brigades of Vivian and Vandeleur on the flank 
 of the left wing, Wellington's cavalry was exhausted. 
 A number of batteries lay dismounted. These facts are 
 confessed by Siborne; and Pringle, exaggerating the 
 disaster, says even that the Anglo-Dutch army was re- 
 duced to 34,000 men. The Iron Duke remained calm, 
 but his lips were pale. The Austrian commissary, Vin- 
 cent, the Spanish commissary, Olava, present at the 
 battle of the English staff, thought the Duke was beyond 
 hope. At 5 o'clock Wellington drew out his watch, and 
 was heard to murmur these somber words: "Bliicher or 
 night." 
 
 It was about this time that a distant line of bayonets 
 glistened on the heights beyond Frischemont. 
 
 Here is the turning-point in this colossal drama. 
 
 BAD GUIDE FOR NAPOLEON: GOOD GUIDE FOR BULOW 
 
 We understand the bitter mistake of Napoleon; 
 Grouchy hoped for, Bliicher arriving; death instead of 
 life. 
 
 Destiny has such turnings. Awaiting the world's 
 throne, St. Helena became visible. 
 
 If the Httle cowboy, who acted as guide to Billow, 
 Bliicher's lieutenant, had advised him to debouch from 
 the forest about Frischemont rather than below Planche- 
 noit, the shaping of the nineteenth century would per- 
 haps have been different. Napoleon would have won 
 the battle of Waterloo. By any other road than below 
 Planchenoit, the Prussian army would have brought up 
 at a ravine impassable for artillery, and Biilow would 
 not have arrived. 
 
 Now, an hour of delay, as the Prussian general, 
 
 283 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Miiffling, declares, and Bliicher would not have found 
 Wellington in position; "the battle was lost." 
 
 It was time, we have seen, that Biilow should arrive. 
 He had bivouacked at Dion le Mont, and started on at 
 dawn. But the roads were impracticable, and his divi- 
 sion stuck in the mire. The cannon sank to the hubs in 
 the ruts. Furthermore, he had to cross the Dyle on the 
 narrow bridge of Wavre ; the street leading to the bridge 
 had been fired by the French ; the caissons and artillery 
 wagons, being unable to pass between two rows of burn- 
 ing houses, had to wait till the fire was extinguished. 
 It was noon before Biilow could reach Chapelle St.- 
 Lambert. 
 
 Had the action commenced two hours earlier it would 
 have been finished at four o'clock, and Bliicher would 
 have fallen upon a field already won by Napoleon, Such 
 are these immense chances, proportioned to an infinity, 
 which we cannot grasp. 
 
 As early as midday the Emperor, first of all, with his 
 field-glass, perceived in the extreme horizon something 
 which fixed his attention. He said: ''I see yonder a 
 cloud which appears to me to be troops." Then he 
 asked the Duke of Dalmatia: ''Soult, what do you see 
 toward Chapelle St.-Lambert?" The marshal, turning 
 his glass that way, answered, "Four or five thousand 
 men, sire. Grouchy, of course." Meanwhile, it remained 
 motionless in the haze. The glasses of the whole staff 
 studied "the cloud" pointed out by the Emperor. Some 
 said: "They are columns halting." The most said: "It 
 is trees." The fact is that the cloud did not stir. The 
 Emperor detached Domon's division of light cavalry to 
 reconnoiter this obscure point. 
 
 284 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 Biilow, in fact, had not moved. His vanguard was 
 very weak and could do nothing. He had to wait for 
 the bulk of his corps d'armee, and he was ordered to 
 concentrate his force before entering into line; but 
 at nve o'clock, seeing Wellington's peril, Bliicher 
 ordered Biilow to attack, and uttered these remarkable 
 words: "We must give the English army a breathing 
 spell." 
 
 Soon after, the divisions of Losthin, Hiller, Hacke, 
 and Ryssel deployed in front of Lobau's corps, the 
 cavalry of Prince William of Prussia debouched from 
 the wood of Paris, Planchenoit was in flames, and the 
 Prussian balls began to rain down even in the ranks of 
 the Guard in reserve behind Napoleon. 
 
 THE GUARD 
 
 The rest is known ; the irruption of a third army, the 
 battle thrown out of joint, eighty-six pieces of artillery 
 suddenly thundering forth, Pirch the First coming up 
 with Biilow, Ziethen's cavalry led by Bliicher in person, 
 the French crowded back, Marcognet swept from the 
 plateau of Ohain, Durutte dislodged from Papelotte, 
 Donzelot and Quiot recoiling, Lobau taken en echarpe^ 
 a new battle falling at nightfall upon our dismantled 
 regiments, the whole English line assuming the offensive 
 and pushed forward, the gigantic gap made in the 
 French army, the English grape and the Prussian grape 
 lending mutual aid, extermination, disaster in front, 
 disaster in flank, the Guard entering into line amid this 
 terrible crumbling. 
 
 Feeling that they were going to their death they cried 
 out: " Vive VEmpereurT' There is nothing more touch- 
 
 28s 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 ing in history than this death agony bursting forth in 
 acclamations. 
 
 The sky has been overcast all day. All at once, at 
 this very moment — it was eight o'clock at night — the 
 clouds in the horizon broke, and through the elms on 
 the Nivelles road streamed the sinister red light of the 
 setting sun. The rising sun shone upon Austerlitz. 
 
 Each battalion of the Guard, for this final effort, was 
 commanded by a general. Friant, Michel, Roguet, 
 Harlet, Mallet, Poret de Morvan, were there. When the 
 tall caps of the grenadiers of the Guard, with their large 
 eagle plates, appeared, symmetrical, drawn up in line, 
 calm, in the smoke of that conflict, the enemy felt 
 respect for France; they thought they saw twenty 
 victories entering upon the field of battle with wings 
 extended, and those who were conquerors, thinking 
 themselves conquered, recoiled; but Wellington cried 
 "Up, Guards, and at them!" The red regiment of 
 English Guards lying behind the hedges, rose up, a 
 shower of grape riddled the tricolored flag fluttering 
 about our eagles, all hurled themselves forward, and the 
 final carnage began. The Imperial Guard felt the army 
 slipping away around them in the gloom, and the vast 
 overthrow of the rout; they heard the ^^Sauve qui peutl"^ 
 which had replaced the "Fm V Empereur ! " and, with 
 flight behind them, they held on their course, battered 
 more and more and dying faster and faster at every 
 step. There were no weak souls or cowards there. The 
 privates of that band were as heroic as their general. 
 Not a man flinched from the suicide. 
 
 Ney, desperate, great in all the grandeur of accepted 
 
 ^ Save yourselves. 
 286 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 death, bared himself to every blow in this tempest. He 
 had his horse killed under him. Reeking with sweat, fire 
 in his eyes, froth upon his lips, his uniform unbuttoned, 
 one of his epaulets half cut away by the saber stroke of a 
 horse guard, his badge of the Grand Eagle pierced by a 
 ball, bloody, covered with mud, magnificent, a broken 
 sword in his hand, he said: "Come! and see how a mar- 
 shal of France dies upon the field of battle!" But in 
 vain; he did not die. He was haggard and exasperated. 
 He flung this question at Drouet d'Erlon: "What! are 
 you not going to die? " He cried out in the midst of all 
 this artillery which was mowing down a handful of men : 
 "Is there nothing, then, for me? Oh! I would that all 
 these English balls were buried in my body!" Unhappy 
 man ! thou wast reserved for French bullets ! 
 
 THE CATASTROPHE 
 
 The rout behind the Guard was dismal. 
 
 The army fell back rapidly from all sides at once, from 
 Hougomont, from La Haye Sainte, from Papelotte, from 
 Planchenoit. The cry: "Treachery!" was followed by 
 the cry: "Sauve qui pent!" A disbanding army is a 
 thaw. The whole bends, cracks, snaps, floats, rolls, falls, 
 crushes, hurries, plunges. Mysterious disintegration. 
 Ney borrows a horse, leaps upon him, and without hat, 
 cravat, or sword, plants himself in the Brussels road, 
 arresting at once the English and the French. He 
 endeavors to hold the army, to call them back, he re- 
 proaches them, he grapples with the rout. He is swept 
 away. The soldiers flee from him, crying: "Vive le 
 Marshal Ney !" Durutte's two regiments come and go, 
 frightened and tossed between the sabers of the Uhlans 
 
 287 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 and the fire of the brigades of Kempt, Best, Pack, and 
 Rylandt; rout is the worst of all conflicts; friends slay 
 each other in their flight; squadrons and battahons are 
 crushed and dispersed against each other, enormous 
 foam of the battle. Lobau at one extremity, like Reille 
 at the other, is rolled away in the flood. In vain does 
 Napoleon make walls with the remains of the Guard; 
 in vain does he expend his reserve squadrons in a last 
 effort. Quiot gives way before Vivian, Kellermann 
 before Vandeleur, Lobau before Biilow, Moraud before 
 Pirch, Doman and Lubervic before Prince William of 
 Prussia. Guyot, who had led the Emperor's squadrons 
 to the charge, falls under the feet of the English Horse. 
 Napoleon gallops along the fugitives, harangues them, 
 urges, threatens, entreats. The mouths, which in the 
 morning were crying " Vive VEmpereur,^' are now agape; 
 he is hardly recognized. The Prussian cavalry, just 
 come up, spring forward, fling themselves upon the 
 enemy, saber, cut, hack, kill, exterminate. Teams rush 
 off, the guns are left to the care of themselves; the sol- 
 diers of the train unhitch the caissons and take the 
 horses to escape; wagons upset, with their four wheels 
 in the air, block up the road, and are accessories of mas- 
 sacre. They crush and they crowd ; they trample upon 
 the Uving and the dead. Arms are broken. A multitude 
 fills roads, paths, bridges, plains, hills, valleys, woods, 
 choked up by this flight of forty thousand men. Cries, 
 despair; knapsacks and muskets cast into the rye; 
 passages forced at the point of the sword; no more 
 comrades, no more officers, no more generals; inexpres- 
 sible dismay. Ziethen sabering France at his ease. 
 Lions become kids. Such was this flight. 
 
 288 
 
EVENING OF THE BATTLE OF 
 WATERLOO 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 At Genappe there was an effort to turn back, to form a 
 line, to make a stand. Lobau rallied three hundred men. 
 The entrance to the village was barricaded, but at the 
 first volley of Prussian grape all took to flight again and 
 Lobau was captured. The marks of that volley of grape 
 are still to be seen upon the old gable of a brick ruin at 
 the right of the road, a short distance before entering 
 Genappe. The Prussians rushed into Genappe, furious, 
 doubtless, at having conquered so little. The pursuit 
 was monstrous. Blucher gave orders to kill all. Roguet 
 had set this sad example by threatening with death 
 every French grenadier who should bring him a Prussian 
 prisoner. Blucher surpassed Roguet. The general of the 
 Young Guard, Duhesme, caught at the door of a tavern 
 in Genappe, gave up his sword to a hussar of death, who 
 took the sword and killed the prisoner. The victory 
 was completed by the assassination of the vanquished. 
 Let us punish, since we are history; old Blucher dis- 
 graced himself. This ferocity filled the disaster to the 
 brim. The desperate rout passed through Genappe, 
 passed through Quatre Bras, passed through Sombreffe, 
 passed through Frasness, passed through Thuin, passed 
 through Charleroi, and stopped only at the frontier. 
 Alas 1 who now was flying in such wise? The grand army. 
 
 This madness, this terror, this falUng to ruins of the 
 highest bravery which ever astonished history, can that 
 be without cause? No. The shadow of an enormous 
 right hand rests on Waterloo. It is the day of destiny. 
 A power above man controlled that day. Hence, the 
 loss of mind in dismay; hence, all these great souls yield- 
 ing up their swords. Those who had conquered Europe 
 fell to the ground, having nothing more to say or to do, 
 
 289 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 feeling a terrible presence in the darkness. Hoc erat in 
 fatis.^ That day the perspective of the human race 
 changed. Waterloo is the hinge of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury. The disappearance of the great man was necessary 
 for the advent of the great century. One, to whom there 
 is no reply, took it in charge. The panic of heroes is 
 explained. In the battle of Waterloo there is more than 
 a cloud, there is a meteor. God passed over it. 
 
 In the gathering night, on a field near Genappe, 
 Bernard and Bertrand seized by a flap of his coat 
 and stopped a 'haggard, thoughtful, gloomy man, who, 
 dragged thus far by the current of the rout, had dis- 
 mounted, passed the bridle of his horse under his arm, 
 and, with bewildering eye, was returning alone toward 
 Waterloo. It was Napoleon endeavoring to advance 
 again, mighty somnambulist of a vanished dream. 
 
 * So fate decreed. 
 
THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 
 
 [1854] 
 
 BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON 
 
 Half a league, half a league, 
 Half a league onward, 
 All in the valley of Death 
 Rode the six hundred! 
 "Forward, the Light Brigade! 
 Charge for the guns!" he said: 
 Into the Valley of Death 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
 "Forward, the Light Brigade!" 
 Was there a man dismay'd ? 
 Not tho' the soldier knew 
 
 Some one had blunder'd: 
 Theirs not to make reply, 
 Theirs not to reason why. 
 Theirs but to do and die. 
 Into the Valley of Death 
 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
 Cannon to right of them, 
 Cannon to left of them. 
 Cannon in front of them 
 Volley 'd and thunder'd; 
 
 291 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Storm'd at with shot and shell, 
 Boldly they rode and well; 
 Into the jaws of death, 
 Into the mouth of hell 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
 Flash 'd all their sabers bare, 
 Flash'd as they turn'd in air 
 Sabering the gunners there, 
 Charging an army, while 
 
 All the world wonder 'd. 
 Plunged in the battle-smoke, 
 Right thro' the hne they broke; 
 Cossack and Russian 
 Reel'd from the saber-stroke 
 
 Shatter'd and sunder'd. 
 Then they rode back, but not, 
 
 Not the six hundred. 
 
 Cannon to right of them, 
 Cannon to left of them. 
 Cannon behind them 
 
 Volley'd and thunder'd; 
 Storm'd at with shot and shell. 
 While horse and hero fell, 
 They that had fought so well 
 Came thro' the jaws of Death, 
 Back from the mouth of hell. 
 All that was left of them, 
 
 Left of six hundred. 
 
 292 
 
THE RETURN OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 
 
THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 
 
 When can their glory fade? 
 O the wild charge they made! 
 
 All the world wonder'd. 
 Honor the charge they made! 
 Honor the Light Brigade, 
 
 Noble six hundred! 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 [1862] 
 
 BY HENRY M. STANLEY 
 
 [Henry M. Stanley, the famous African explorer, was 
 bom in Wales in 184 1. At the age of sixteen he came to 
 America, and on the outbreak of the Civil War enUsted in 
 the Confederate army. The Editor.] 
 
 At four o'clock in the morning, we rose from our 
 damp bivouac, and, after a hasty refreshment, were 
 formed into line. We stood in rank for half an hour 
 or so, while the military dispositions were being com- 
 pleted along the three-mile front. Our brigade formed 
 the center; Cleburne's and Gladden's brigades were on 
 our respective flanks. 
 
 Day broke with every promise of a fine day. Next to 
 me, on my right, w^as a boy of seventeen, Henry Parker. 
 I remember it because, while we stood-at-ease, he drew 
 my attention to some violets at his feet, and said, "It 
 would be a good idea to put a few into my cap. Per- 
 haps the Yanks won't shoot me if they see me wearing 
 such flowers, for they are a sign of peace." "Capital," 
 said I, "I will do the same." W^e plucked a bunch, and 
 arranged the violets in our caps. The men in the ranks 
 laughed at our proceedings, and had not the enemy been 
 so near, their merry mood might have been communi- 
 cated to the army. 
 
 \Ve loaded our muskets and arranged our cartridge- 
 pouches ready for use. Our weapons were the obsolete 
 flintlocks, and the ammunition was rolled in cartridge- 
 
 294 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 paper, which contained powder, a round ball, and three 
 buckshot. When we loaded, we had to tear the paper 
 with our teeth, empty a little powder into the pan, lock 
 it, empty the rest of the powder into the barrel, press 
 paper and ball into the muzzle, and ram home. Then the 
 orderly sergeant called the roll, and we knew that the 
 Dixie Grays were present to a man. Soon after, there 
 was a commotion, and we dressed up smartly. A young 
 aide galloped along our front, gave some instructions to 
 the Brigadier Hindman, who confided the same to his 
 colonels, and presently we swayed forward in line, with 
 shouldered arms. Newton Story, big, broad, and 
 straight, bore our company banner of gay silk, at which 
 the ladies of our neighborhood had labored. 
 
 As we tramped solemnly and silently through the 
 thin forest, and over its grass, still in its withered and 
 wintry hue, I noticed that the sun was not far from ap- 
 pearing, that our regiment was keeping its formation 
 admirably, that the woods would have been a grand 
 place for a picnic; and I thought it strange that a Sun- 
 day shoujd have been chosen to disturb the holy calm 
 of those woods. 
 
 Before we had gone five hundred paces, our serenity 
 was disturbed by some desultory firing in front. It was 
 then a quarter-past five. ''They are at it already," we 
 whispered to each other. "Stand by, gentlemen," — 
 for we were all gentlemen volunteers at this time, — 
 said our captain, L. G. Smith. Our steps became un- 
 consciously brisker, and alertness was noticeable in 
 everybody. The firing continued at intervals, deliberate 
 and scattered, as at target-practice. We drew nearer 
 to the fixing, and soon a sharper rattling of musketry 
 
 295 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 was heard. ''That is the enemy waking up," we said. 
 Within a few minutes, there was another explosive 
 burst of musketry, the air was pierced by many mis- 
 siles, which hummed and pinged sharply by our ears, 
 pattered through the tree-tops, and brought twigs and 
 leaves down on us. "Those are bullets," Henry whis- 
 pered with awe. 
 
 At two hundred yards farther, a dreadful roar of 
 musketry broke out from a regiment adjoining ours. It 
 was followed by another farther off, and the sound had 
 scarcely died away when regiment after regiment blazed 
 away and made a continuous roll of sound. "We are 
 in for it now," said Henry; but as yet we had seen noth- 
 ing, though our ears were tinghng under the animated 
 volleys. 
 
 "Forward, gentlemen, make ready!" urged Captain 
 Smith. In response, we surged forward, for the first 
 time marring the alignment. We trampled recklessly 
 over the grass and young sprouts. Beams of sunlight 
 stole athwart our course. The sun was up above the 
 horizon. Just then we came to a bit of packland, and 
 overtook our skirmishers, who had been engaged in 
 exploring our front. We passed beyond them. Nothing 
 now stood between us and the enemy. 
 
 "There they are!" was no sooner uttered than we 
 cracked into them mth leveled muskets. "Aim low, 
 men!" commanded Captain Smith. I tried hard to see 
 some living thing to shoot at, for it appeared absurd to 
 be blazing away at shadows. But, still advancing, firing 
 as we moved, I, at last, saw a row of little globes of 
 pearly smoke streaked with crimson, breaking out, with 
 spurtive quickness, from a long line of bluey figures in 
 
 296 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 front; and, simultaneously, there broke upon our ears an 
 appalling crash of sound, the series of fusillades follow- 
 ing one another with startling suddenness, which sug- 
 gested to my somewhat moidered sense a mountain 
 upheaved, with huge rocks tumbling and thundering 
 down a slope, and the echoes rambling and receding 
 through space. Again and again, these loud and quick 
 explosions were repeated, seemingly with increased 
 violence, until they rose to the highest pitch of fury, and 
 in unbroken continuity. All the world seemed involved 
 in one tremendous ruin! 
 
 This was how the conflict was ushered in — as it 
 affected me. I looked around to see the effect on others, 
 or whether I was singular in my emotions, and was glad 
 to notice that each was possessed with his own thoughts. 
 All were pale, solemn, and absorbed; but, beyond that, 
 it was impossible for me to discover what they thought 
 of it; but by transmission of sympathy, I felt that they 
 would gladly prefer to be elsewhere, though the law of 
 the inevitable kept them in line to meet their destiny. 
 It might be mentioned, however, that at no time were 
 we more instinctively inclined to obey the voice of com- 
 mand. We had no individuality at this moment, but all 
 motions and thoughts were surrendered to the unseen 
 influence which directed our movements. Probably few 
 bothered their minds with self-questionings as to the 
 issue to themselves. That properly belongs to other 
 moments, to the night, to the interval between waking 
 and sleeping, to the first moments of the dawn — not 
 when every nerve is tense, and the spirit is at the highest 
 pitch of action. 
 
 Though one's senses were preternaturally acute, and 
 297 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 engaged with their impressions, we plied our arms, 
 loaded, and fired, with such nervous haste as though it 
 depended on each of us how soon this fiendish uproar 
 would be hushed. My nerves tingled, my pulses beat 
 double-quick, my heart throbbed loudly, and almost 
 painfully; but, amid all the excitement, my thoughts, 
 swift as the flash of lightning, took all sound, and sight, 
 and self, into their purview. I listened to the battle 
 raging far away on the flanks, to the thunder in front, 
 to the various sounds made by the leaden storm. I was 
 angry with my rear rank, because he made my eyes 
 smart with the powder of his musket; and I felt like 
 cuffing him for deafening my ears ! I knew how Captain 
 Smith and Lieutenant Mason looked, how bravely the 
 Dixie Grays' banner ruffled over Newton Story's head, 
 and that all hands were behaving as though they knew 
 how long all this would last. Back to myself my thoughts 
 came, and, with the whirring bullet, they fled to the 
 blue-bloused ranks afront. They dwelt on their move- 
 ments, and read their temper, as I should read time by 
 a clock. Through the lurid haze the contours of their 
 pink faces could -not be seen, but their gappy, hesit- 
 ating, incoherent, and sensitive line revealed their mood 
 clearly. 
 
 We continued advancing, step by step, loading and 
 firing as we went. To every forward step, they took a 
 backward move, loading and firing as they slowly with- 
 drew. Twenty thousand muskets were being fired at 
 this stage, but, though accuracy of aim was impossible, 
 owing to our laboring hearts, and the jarring and excite- 
 ment, many bullets found their destined billets on both 
 sides. 
 
 298 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 After a steady exchange of musketry, which lasted 
 some time, we heard the order: "Fix bayonets! On the 
 double-quick!" in tones that thrilled us. There was a 
 simultaneous bound forward, each soul doing his best 
 for the emergency. The Federals appeared inclined to 
 await us; but, at this juncture, our men raised a yell, 
 thousands responded to it, and burst out into the wildest 
 yelling it has ever been my lot to hear. It drove all 
 sanity and order from among us. It served the double 
 purpose of relieving pent-up feelings, and transmitting 
 encouragement along the attacking line. I rejoiced in 
 the shouting like the rest. It reminded me that there 
 were about four hundred companies like the Dixie 
 Grays, who shared our feelings. Most of us, engrossed 
 with the musket- work, had forgotten the fact; but the 
 wave after wave of human voices, louder than all other 
 battle-sounds together, penetrated to every sense, and 
 stimulated our energies to the utmost. 
 
 "They fly!" was echoed from lip to lip. It accelerated 
 our pace, and filled us with a noble rage. Then I knew 
 what the berserker passion was! It deluged us with rap- 
 ture, and transfigured each Southerner into an exulting 
 victor. At such a moment, nothing could have halted 
 us. 
 
 Those savage yells, and the sight of thousands of 
 racing figures coming towards them, discomfited the 
 blue-coats; and when we arrived upon the place where 
 they had stood, they had vanished. Then we caught 
 sight of their beautiful array of tents, before which they 
 had made their stand, after being roused from their 
 Sunday-morning sleep, and huddled into line, at hearing 
 their pickets challenge our skirmishers. The half- 
 
 299 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 dressed dead and wounded showed what a surprise our 
 attack had been. We drew up in the enemy's camp, 
 panting and breathing hard. Some precious minutes 
 were thus lost in recovering our breaths, indulging our 
 curiosity, and re-forming our line. Signs of a hasty 
 rouse to the battle were abundant. Military equip- 
 ments, uniform-coats, half-packed knapsacks, bedding, 
 of a new and superior quality, littered the company 
 streets. 
 
 Meantime, a series of other camps lay behind the 
 first array of tents. The resistance we had met, though 
 comparatively brief, enabled the brigades in rear of the 
 advance camp to recover from the shock of the surprise; 
 but our delay had not been long enough to give them 
 time to form in proper order of battle. There were wide 
 gaps between their divisions, into which the quick- 
 flowing tide of elated Southerners entered, and com- 
 pelled them to fall back lest they should be surrounded. 
 Prentiss's brigade, despite their most desperate efforts, 
 were thus hemmed in on all sides, and were made 
 prisoners. 
 
 I had a momentary impression that, with the capture 
 of the first camp, the battle was well-nigh over; but, in 
 fact, it was only a brief prologue of the long and exhaus- 
 tive series of struggles which took place that day. 
 
 Continuing our advance, we came in view of the tops 
 of another mass of white tents, and, almost at the same 
 time, were met by a furious storm of bullets, poured on 
 us from a long line of blue-coats, whose attitude of as- 
 surance proved to us that we should have tough work 
 here. But we were so much heartened by our first suc- 
 cess that it would have required a good deal to have 
 
 300 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 halted our advance for long. Their opportunity for 
 making a full impression on us came with terrific sudden- 
 ness. The world seemed bursting into fragments. Can- 
 non and musket, shell and bullet, lent their several 
 intensities to the distracting uproar. If I had not a frac- 
 tion of an ear, and an eye inclined toward my captain 
 and company, I had been spell-bound by the energies 
 now opposed to us. I hkened the cannon, with their 
 deep bass, to the roaring of a great herd of lions; the 
 ripping, cracking musketry, to the incessant yapping 
 of terriers; the windy whisk of shells, and zipping of 
 minie bullets, to the swoop of eagles, and the buzz of 
 angry wasps. All the opposing armies of gray and blue 
 fiercely blazed at each other. 
 
 After being exposed for a few seconds to this fearful 
 downpour, we heard the order to "Lie down, men, and 
 continue your firing!'' Before me was a prostrate tree, 
 about fifteen inches in diameter, with a narrow strip of 
 light between it and the ground. Behind this shelter 
 a dozen of us flung ourselves. The security it appeared to 
 offer restored me to my individuality. We could fight, 
 and think, and observe, better than out in the open. 
 But it was a terrible period! How the cannon bellowed, 
 and their shells plunged and bounded, and flew with 
 screeching hisses over us! Their sharp rending explo- 
 sions and hurtling fragments made us shrink and cower, 
 despite our utmost efforts to be cool and collected. I 
 marveled, as I heard the unintermitting patter, snip, 
 thud, and hum of the bullets, how any one could live 
 under this raining death. I could hear the balls beating 
 a merciless tattoo on the outer surface of the log, ping- 
 ing vivaciously as they flew off at a tangent from it, and 
 
 301 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 thudding into something or other, at the rate of a hun- 
 dred a second. One, here and there, found its way under 
 the log, and buried itself in a comrade's body. One 
 man raised his chest, as if to yawn, and jostled me. I 
 turned to him, and saw that a bullet had gored his whole 
 face, and penetrated into his chest. Another ball struck 
 a man a deadly rap on the head, and he turned on his 
 back and showed his ghastly white face to the sky. 
 
 "It is getting too warm, boys!" cried a soldier, and he 
 uttered a vehement curse upon keeping soldiers hugging 
 the ground until every ounce of courage was chilled. He 
 lifted his head a little too high, and a bullet skimmed 
 over the top of the log and hit him fairly in the center 
 of his forehead, and he fell heavily on his face. But his 
 thought had been instantaneously general; and the 
 officers, with one voice, ordered the charge, and cries of 
 *' Forward! Forward!" raised us, as with a spring, to 
 our feet, and changed the complexion of our feelings. 
 The pulse of action beat feverishly once more; and, 
 though overhead was crowded with peril, we were 
 unable to give it so much attention as when we lay 
 stretched on the ground. 
 
 Just as we bent our bodies for the onset, a boy's voice 
 cried out, "Oh, stop, please stop a bit; I have been hurt, 
 and can't move!" I turned to look, and saw Henry 
 Parker, standing on one leg, and dolefully regarding his 
 smashed foot. In another second, we were striding 
 impetuously toward the enemy, vigorously plying our 
 muskets, stopping only to prime the pan and ram the 
 load down, when, with a spring or two, we would fetch 
 up with the front, aim, and fire. 
 
 Our progress was not so continuously rapid as we 
 302 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 desired, for the blues were obdurate ; but at this moment 
 we were gladdened at the sight of a battery galloping 
 to our assistance. It was time for the nerve-shaking 
 cannon to speak. After two rounds of shell and canister, 
 we felt the pressure on us slightly relaxed; but we were 
 still somewhat sluggish in disposition, though the 
 officers' voices rang out imperiously. Newton Story at 
 this juncture strode forward rapidly with the Dixies' 
 banner, until he was quite sixty yards ahead of the fore- 
 most. Finding himself alone, he halted; and turning to 
 us smilingly, said, "Why don't you come on, boys? 
 You see there is no danger!" His smile and words acted 
 on us like magic. We raised the yell, and sprang lightly 
 and hopefully toward him. "Let's give them hell, 
 boys!" said one. "Plug them plum-center, every 
 time!" 
 
 It was all very encouraging, for the yelling and shout- 
 ing were taken up by thousands. "Forward, forward; 
 don't give them breathing time!" was cried. We 
 instinctively obeyed, and soon came in clear view of the 
 blue-coats, who were scornfully unconcerned at first; 
 but, seeing the leaping tide of men coming on at a tre- 
 mendous pace, their front dissolved, and they fled in 
 double-quick retreat. Again we felt the "glorious joy 
 of heroes." It carried us on exultingly, rejoicing in the 
 spirit which recognizes nothing but the prey. We were 
 no longer an army of soldiers, but so many schoolboys 
 racing, in which length of legs, wind, and condition 
 tell. 
 
 We gained the second line of camps, continued the 
 rush through them, and clean beyond it. It was now 
 about ten o'clock. My physical powers were quite 
 
 303 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 exhausted, and, to add to my discomfiture, something 
 struck me on my belt-clasp, and tumbled me headlong 
 to the ground. 
 
 I could not have been many minutes prostrated before 
 I recovered from the shock of the blow and fall, to find 
 my clasp deeply dented and cracked. My company was 
 not in sight. I was grateful for the rest, and crawled 
 feebly to a tree, and plimging my hand into my haver- 
 sack, ate ravenously. Within half an hour, feeling reno- 
 vated, I struck north in the direction which my regiment 
 had taken, over a ground strewn with bodies and the 
 debris of war. . . . 
 
 I overtook my regiment about one o'clock, and found 
 that it was engaged in one of these occasional spurts of 
 fury. The enemy resolutely maintained their ground, 
 and our side was preparing for another assault. The 
 firing was alternately brisk and slack. We lay down, 
 and availed ourselves of trees, logs, and hollows, and 
 annoyed their upstanding ranks; battery pounded bat- 
 tery, and, meanwhile, we hugged our resting-places 
 closely. Of a sudden, we rose and raced towards the po- 
 sition, and took it by sheer weight and impetuosity, as 
 we had done before. About three o'clock, the battle grew 
 very hot. The enemy appeared to be more concentrated, 
 and immovably sullen. Both sides fired better as they 
 grew more accustomed to the din; but, with assistance 
 from the reserves, we were continually pressing them 
 towards the river Tennessee, without ever retreating 
 an inch. 
 
 About this time, the enemy were assisted by the gun- 
 boats, which hurled their enormous projectiles far 
 beyond us; but, though they made great havoc among 
 
 304 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 the trees, and created terror, they did comparatively 
 little damage to those in close touch with the enemy. 
 
 The screaming of the big shells, when they first began 
 to sail over our heads, had the effect of reducing our 
 fire; for they were as fascinating as they were distracting. 
 But we became used to them, and our attention was 
 being claimed more in front. Our officers were more 
 urgent; and, when we saw the growing dike of white 
 cloud that signaled the bullet-storm, we could not be 
 indifferent to the more immediate danger. Dead bodies^ 
 w^ounded men writhing in agony, and assuming every 
 distressful attitude, were frequent sights; but what 
 made us heart-sick was to see, now and then, the well- 
 groomed charger of an officer, with fine saddle, and 
 scarlet and yellow-edged cloth, and brass- tipped holsters, 
 or a stray cavalry or artillery horse, galloping between 
 the lines, snorting with terror, while his entrails, soiled 
 with dust, trailed behind him. 
 
 Our officers had continued to show the same alertness 
 and vigor throughout the day; but, as it drew near four 
 o'clock, though they strove to encourage and urge us on, 
 they began to abate somewhat in their energy; and it 
 was evident that the pluckiest of the men lacked the 
 spontaneity and springing ardor which had distinguished 
 them earlier in the day. Several of our company lagged 
 wearily behind, and the remainder showed, by their 
 drawn faces, the effects of their efforts. Yet, after a 
 short rest, they were able to make splendid spurts. As 
 for myself, I had only one wish, and that was for repose. 
 The long-continued excitement, the successive tauten- 
 ing and relaxing of the nerves, the quenchless thirst, 
 made more intense by the fumes of sulphurous powder, 
 
 305 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 and the caking grime on the lips, caused by tearing the 
 paper cartridges, and a ravening hunger, all combined, 
 had reduced me to a walking automaton, and I earnestly 
 wished that night would come, and stop all further 
 effort. 
 
 Finally, about five o'clock, we assaulted and captured 
 a large camp; after driving the enemy well away from it, 
 the front Hne was as thin as that of a skirmishing body, 
 and we were ordered to retire to the tents. There we 
 hungrily sought after provisions, and I was lucky in 
 finding a supply of biscuits and a canteen of excellent 
 molasses, which gave great comfort to myself and friends. 
 The plunder in the camp was abundant. There were 
 bedding, clothing, and accouterments without stint; 
 but people were so exhausted they could do no more 
 than idly turn the things over. Night soon fell, and only 
 a few stray shots could now be heard, to remind us of the 
 thrilling and horrid din of the day, excepting the huge 
 bombs from the gunboats, which, as we were not far 
 from the blue-coats, discomfited only those in the rear. 
 By eight o'clock, I was repeating my experiences in the 
 region of dreams, indifferent to columbiads and mortars, 
 and the torrential rain which, at midnight, increased 
 the miseries of the wounded and tentless. 
 
 An hour before dawn, I awoke from a refreshing sleep; 
 and, after a hearty replenishment of my vitals with 
 biscuit and molasses, I conceived myself to be fresher 
 than on Sunday morning. WTiile awaiting daybreak, I 
 gathered from other early risers their ideas in regard to 
 the events of yesterday. They were under the impression 
 that we had gained a great victory, though we had not, 
 as we had anticipated, reached the Tennessee River. 
 
 306 
 
TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
 
 Van Dorn, with his expected reinforcements for us, was 
 not likely to make his appearance for many days yet; 
 and, if General Buell, with his twenty thousand troops, 
 had joined the enemy during the night, we had a bad 
 day's work before us. We were short of provisions and 
 ammunition, General Sidney Johnston, our chief com- 
 mander, had been killed; but Beauregard was safe and 
 unhurt, and, if Buell was absent, we would win the day. 
 At daylight, I fell in with my company, but there 
 were only about fifty of the Dixies present. Almost imme- 
 diately after, symptoms of the coming battle were mani- 
 fest. Regiments were hurried into line, but, even to my 
 inexperienced eyes, the troops were in ill-condition for 
 repeatmg the efforts of Sunday. However, in brief time, 
 in consequence of our pickets being driven in on us, we 
 were moved forward in skirmishing order. With m^y 
 musket on the trail I found myself in active motion, 
 more active than otherwise I would have been, perhaps, 
 because Captain Smith had said, "Now, Mr. Stanley, if 
 you please, step briskly forward!" This singling-out of 
 me wounded my amour-propre, and sent me forward like 
 a rocket. In a short time we met our opponents in the 
 same formation as ourselves, and advancing most reso- 
 lutely. We threw ourselves behind such trees as were 
 near us, fired, loaded, and darted forward to another 
 shelter. Presently I found myself in an open, grassy 
 space, with no convenient tree or stump near; but, see- 
 ing a shallow hollow some twenty paces ahead, I made 
 a dash for it, and plied my musket with haste. I became 
 so absorbed with some blue figures in front of me, that I 
 did not pay sufficient heed to my companion grays; the 
 open space was too dangerous, perhaps, for their ad- 
 
 307 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 vance; for, had they emerged, I should have known 
 they were pressing forward. Seeing my blues in about 
 the same proportion, I assumed that the grays were 
 keeping their position, and never once thought of 
 retreat. However, as, despite our firing, the blues were 
 coming uncomfortably near, I rose from my hollow; but, 
 to my speechless amazement, I found myself a solitary 
 gray, in a line of blue skirmishers ! My companions had 
 retreated! The next I heard was, "Down with that gun, 
 Secesh, or I '11 drill a hole through you ! Drop it, quick ! " 
 Half a dozen of the enemy were covering me at the 
 same instant, and I dropped my weapon, incontinently. 
 Two men sprang at my collar, and marched me, unre- 
 sisting, into the ranks of the terrible Yankees. / was a 
 prisoner I 
 
A DRUMMER-BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 [1863] 
 
 BY HARRY M. KIEFFER 
 
 "Harry, I'm getting tired of this thing. It's becoming 
 monotonous, this thing of being roused every morning 
 at four, with orders to pack up and be ready to march 
 at a moment's notice, and then lying around here all 
 day in the sun. I don't believe we are going anywhere, 
 anyhow." 
 
 We had been encamped for six weeks, of which I need 
 give no special account, only saying that in those 
 "summer quarters," as they might be called, we went 
 on with our endless drilling, and were baked and 
 browned, and thoroughly hardened to the life of a sol- 
 dier in the field. 
 
 The monotony of which Andy complained did not end 
 that day, nor the next. For six successive days we were 
 regularly roused at four o'clock in the morning, with 
 orders to "pack up and be ready to move imm.ediately ! " 
 only to unpack as regularly about the middle of the after- 
 noon. We could hear our batteries pounding away in the 
 direction of Fredericksburg, but we did not then know 
 that we were being held well in hand till the enemy's plan 
 had developed itself into the great march into Pennsyl- 
 vania, and we were let off in hot pursuit. 
 
 So, at last, on the 12th of June, 1863, we started, at 
 five o'clock in the morning, in a northwesterly direction. 
 My journal says: "Very warm, dust plenty, water 
 
 309 
 
THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 scarce, marching very hard. Halted at dusk at an excel- 
 lent spring, and lay down for the night with aching limbs 
 and blistered feet." 
 
 I pass over the six days' continuous marching that 
 followed, steadily on toward the north, pausing only to 
 relate several incidents that happened by the way. 
 
 On the 14th we were racing with the enemy — we 
 being pushed on to the utmost of human endurance — 
 for the possession of the defenses of Washington. From 
 five o'clock of that morning till three the following morn- 
 ing, — that is to say from daylight to daylight, — we 
 were hurried along under a burning June sun, with no 
 halt longer than sufficient to recruit our strength with a 
 hasty cup of coffee at noon and nightfall. Nine, ten, 
 eleven, twelve o'clock at night, and still on! It was 
 almost more than flesh could endure. Men fell out of 
 line in the darkness by the score, and tumbled over by 
 the roadside, asleep almost before they touched the 
 ground. 
 
 I remember how a great tall fellow in our company 
 made us laugh along somewhere about one o'clock that 
 morning, — "Pointer," we called him, ^ — an excellent 
 soldier, who afterward fell at his post at Spottsylvania. 
 He had been trudging on in sullen silence for hours, 
 when all of a sudden, coming to a halt, he brought his 
 piece to "order arms" on the hard road with a ring, took 
 off his cap, and, in language far more forcible than ele- 
 gant, began forthwith to denounce both parties to the 
 war, "from A to Izzard," in all branches of the service, 
 civil and military, army and navy, artillery, infantry, and 
 cavalry, and demanded that the enemy should come 
 on in full force here and now, "and I'll fight them all, 
 
 310 
 
A DRUMMER-BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 single-handed and alone, the whole pack of 'em! I'm 
 tired of this everlasting marching, and I want to fight ! " 
 
 "Three cheers for Pointer!" cried some one, and we 
 laughed heartily as we toiled doggedly on to Manassas, 
 which we reached at 3 a.m., June 15. I can assure you, 
 we lost no time in stretching ourselves at full length in 
 the tall summer grass. 
 
 "James McFadden, report to the adjutant for camp 
 guard! James McFadden! Anybody know where Jim 
 McFadden is?" 
 
 Now that was rather hard, was n't it? To march from 
 daylight to daylight, and lie down for a rest of probably 
 two hours before starting again, and then to be called 
 up to stand throughout those precious two hours on 
 guard duty! 
 
 I knew very well where McFadden was, for was n't 
 he lying right beside me in the grass ? But just then I 
 was in no humor to tell. The camp might well go with- 
 out a guard that night, or the orderly might fi.nd Mc- 
 Fadden in the dark if he could. 
 
 But the rules were strict, and the punishment was 
 severe, and poor McFadden, bursting into tears of vexa- 
 tion, answered like a man: "Here I am, orderly; I'll go." 
 It was hard. 
 
 Two weeks later, both McFadden and the orderly 
 went where there is neither marching nor standing 
 guard any more. 
 
 Now comes a long rest of a week, in the woods near the 
 Potomac; for we have been marching parallel with the 
 enemy, and dare not go too fast, lest, by some sudden 
 and dexterous move in the game, he should sweep past 
 our rear in upon the defenses of Washington. And after 
 
 311 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 this sweet refreshment, we cross the Potomac on pon- 
 toons, and march, perhaps with a Hghter step, since we 
 are nearing home, through the smihng fields and pleas- 
 ant villages of "Maryland, my Maryland." At Pooles- 
 ville, a little town on the north bank of the Potomac, we 
 smile as we see a lot of children come trooping out of the 
 village school, — a merry sight to men who have seen 
 neither woman nor child these six months and more, and 
 a touching sight to many a man in the ranks as he thinks 
 of his little flaxen heads in the far-away home. Aye, 
 think of them now, and think of them full tenderly, too, 
 for many a man of you shall never have child climb on 
 his knee any more! 
 
 As we enter one of those pleasant little Maryland vil- 
 lages, — Jefferson by name, ■ — we find on the outskirts 
 of the place two young ladies and two young gentlemen, 
 wavmg the good old flag as we pass, and singing, "Rally 
 round the Flag, Boys!" The excitement along the line 
 is intense. Cheer on cheer is given, by regiment after 
 regiment, as we pass along, we drummer-boys beating, 
 at the colonel's express orders, the old tune, "The Girl 
 I left behind me," as a sort of response. Soon we are in 
 among the hills again, and still the cheering goes on in 
 the far distance to the rear. 
 
 Only ten days later, we passed through the same vil- 
 lage again, and were met by the same young ladies and 
 gentlemen, waving the same flag and singing the same 
 song. But though we tried twice, and tried hard, we 
 could not cheer at all; for there's a difference between 
 five hundred men and one hundred, • — is there not? So, 
 that second tune, we drooped our tattered flags, and raised 
 our caps in silent and sorrowful salute. Through Middle- 
 
 312 
 
A DRUMMER-BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 town next, where a rumor reaches us that the enemy's 
 forces have occupied Harrisburg, and where certain 
 ladies, standing on a balcony and waving their handker- 
 chiefs as we pass by, in reply to our colonel's greeting, 
 that "we are glad to see so many Union people here," 
 answer, "Yes; and we are glad to see the Yankee sol- 
 diers, too." 
 
 From Middletown, at six o'clock in the evening, across 
 the mountain to Frederick, on the outskirts of which 
 city we camp for the night. At half-past five next morn- 
 ing (June 29) we are up and away, in a drizzling rain, 
 through Lewistown and Mechanicstown, near which 
 latter place we pass a company of Confederate prisoners, 
 twenty-four in number, dressed in well-worn gray and 
 butternut, which makes us think that the enemy cannot 
 be far ahead. After a hard march of twenty-five miles, 
 the greater part of the way over a turnpike, we reach 
 Emmittsburg at nightfall, some of us quite barefoot, 
 and all of us footsore and weary. Next morning (June 
 30) at nine o'clock we were up and away again, "on the 
 road leading towards Gettysburg," they say. After 
 crossing the line between Maryland and Pennsylvania, 
 where the colonel halts the column for a moment, in 
 order that we may give three rousing cheers for the 
 "Old Keystone State," we march perceptibly slower, 
 as if there were some impediment in the way. There is 
 a feeling among the men that the enemy is somewhere 
 near. Toward noon we leave the public road, and tak- 
 ing across the fields, form in line of battle along the rear 
 of a wood, and pickets are thrown out. There is an air 
 of uncertainty and suspicion in the ranks as we look to 
 the woods, and consider what our pickets may possibly 
 
 313 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 unmask there. But no developments have yet been 
 made when darkness comes, and we bivouac for the 
 night behind a strong stone wall. 
 
 Passing down along the line of glowing fires, in the 
 gathering gloom, I come on one of my company messes 
 squatting about a fire, cooking supper. Joe Gutelius, 
 corporal and color-guard from our company, is super- 
 intending the boiling of a piece of meat in a tin can, 
 while Sam Ruhl and his brother Joe are smoking their 
 pipes near by. 
 
 "Boys, it begins to look a little dubious, don't it? 
 Where is Jimmy Lucas?" 
 
 " He 's out on picket, in the woods yonder. Yes, Harry, 
 it begins to look a little as if we were about to stir the 
 Johnnies out of the brush," says Joe Gutelius, throwing 
 another rail on the fire. 
 
 "If we do," says Joe Ruhl, "remember that you have 
 the post of honor, Joe, and ' if any man pulls down that 
 flag, shoot him on the spot!'" 
 
 "Never you fear for that," answers Joe Gutelius. "We 
 of the color-guard will look out for the flag. For my part, 
 I 'fl stay a dead man on the field before the colors of the 
 150th are disgraced." 
 
 "You'll have some tough tussling for your colors, 
 then," says Sam. "If the 'Louisiana Tigers' get after 
 you once, look out!" 
 
 "Who's afraid of the 'Louisiana Tigers'? I'fl back 
 the 'Bucktails' against the 'Tigers' any day. Stay and 
 take supper with us, Harry! We are going to have a 
 feast to-night. I have the heart of a beef boiling in the 
 can yonder; and it is done now. Sit up, boys, get out 
 your knives, and fall to." 
 
 314 
 
A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 "We 're going to have boiled lion heart for supper, 
 Harry," says Joek Ruhl, with mock apology for the 
 fare, "but we could n't catch any lions. They seem to 
 be scarce in these parts. Maybe, we can catch a tiger, 
 to-morrow, though." 
 
 Little do we think, as we sit thus cheerily talking 
 about the blazing fire behind the stone wall, that it is 
 our last supper together, and that ere another nightfall 
 two of us will be sleeping in the silent bivouac of the 
 dead. 
 
 " Colonel, close up your men, and move on as rapidly 
 as possible." 
 
 It is the morning of July i, and we are crossing a 
 bridge over a stream, as the staff o£Qcer, having delivered 
 this order for us, dashes down the line to hurry up the 
 regiments in the rear. We get up on a high range of 
 hills, from which we have a magnificent view. The day 
 is bright, the air is fresh and sweet with the scent of the 
 newmown hay, and the sun shines out of an almost 
 cloudless sky, and as we gaze away off yonder down the 
 valley to the left — look ! Do you see that? A puff of 
 smoke in midair! Very small, and miles away, as the 
 faint and long-coming "boom" of the exploding shell 
 indicates; but it means that something is going on yon- 
 der, away down in the valley, in which, perhaps, we may 
 have a hand before the day is done. See! another — and 
 another! Faint and far away comes the long-delayed 
 "boom!" "boom!" echoing over the hills, as the staff 
 officer dashes along the lines with orders to "double- 
 quick! double-quick!" 
 
 Four miles of almost constant double-quicking is no 
 
 315 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 light work at any time, least of all on such a day as this 
 memorable ist day of July, for it is hot and dusty. But 
 we are in our own State now, boys, and the battle is 
 opening ahead, and it is no time to save breath. On we 
 go, now up a hill, now over a stream, now checking our 
 headlong rush for a moment, for we mtist breathe a little. 
 But the word comes along the line again, "double-quick," 
 and we settle down to it with right good will, while the 
 cannon ahead seem to be getting nearer and louder. 
 There 's little said in the ranks, for there is little breath 
 for talking, though every man is busy enough thinking. 
 We all feel, somehow, that our day has come at last — 
 as indeed it has! 
 
 We get in through the outskirts of Gettysburg, tear- 
 ing down fences of the town lots and outlying gardens as 
 we go; we pass a battery of brass guns drawn up beside 
 the Seminary, some hundred yards in front of which 
 building, in a strip of meadow land, we halt, and rapidly 
 form the line of battle. 
 
 "General, shall we unsling knapsacks?" shouts some 
 one down the line to our division general, as he is dashing 
 by. 
 
 "Never mind the knapsacks, boys; it's the State 
 now!" 
 
 And he plunges his spurs into the flanks of his horse, 
 as he takes the stake-and-rider fence at a leap, and is 
 away. 
 
 "Unfurl the flags, color-guard!" 
 
 "Now, forward, double — " 
 
 "Colonel, we're not loaded yet!" 
 
 A laugh runs along the line as, at the command, "Load 
 at will — load!" the ramrods make their merry music, 
 
 316 
 
A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 and at once the word is given, " Forward, double-quick ! " 
 and the line sweeps up that rising ground with banners 
 gayly flying, and cheers that rend the air, — a sight, once 
 seen, never to be forgotten. 
 
 I suppose my readers wonder what a drummer-boy 
 does in time of battle. Perhaps they have the same idea 
 I used to have, namely, that it is the duty of a drum- 
 mer-boy to beat his drimi all the time the battle rages, 
 to encourage the men or drown the groans of the wounded ! 
 But if they will reflect a moment, they will see that amid 
 the confusion and noise of battle, there is little chance of 
 martial music being either heard or heeded. Our colonel 
 had long ago given us our orders, — 
 
 "You drummer-boys, in time of an engagement, are 
 to lay aside your drums and take stretchers and help 
 off the wounded. I expect you to do this, and you are to 
 remember that, in doing it, you are just as much helping 
 the battle on as if you were fighting with guns in your 
 hands." 
 
 And so we sit down there on our drums and watch the 
 line going in with cheers. Forthwith we get a smart 
 shelling, for there is evidently somebody else watching 
 that advancing line besides ourselves; but they have 
 elevated their guns a little too much, so that every shell 
 passes quite over the line and ploughs up the meadow 
 sod about iis in all directions. 
 
 Laying aside our knapsacks, we go to the Seminary, 
 now rapidly filling with the wounded. This the enemy 
 surely cannot know, or they would n't shell the building 
 so hard ! We get stretchers at the ambulances, and start 
 out for the line of battle. We can Just see our regimental 
 colors waving in the orchard, near a log house about 
 
 317 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 three hundred yards ahead, and we start out for it — I 
 on the lead, and Daney behind. 
 
 There is one of our batteries drawn up to our left a 
 short distance as we run. It is engaged in a sharp ar- 
 tillery duel with one of the enemy's, which we cannot 
 see, although we can hear it plainly enough, and straight 
 between the two our road lies. So, up we go, Daney and 
 I, at a lively trot, dodging the shells as best we can, till, 
 panting for breath, we set down our stretcher under an 
 apple tree in the orchard, in which, under the brow of 
 the hill, we find the regiment lying, one or two com- 
 panies being out on the skirmish line ahead. 
 
 I count six men of Company C lying yonder in the 
 grass — killed, they say, by a single shell. Close beside 
 them lies a tall, magnificently built man, whom I recog- 
 nize by his uniform as belonging to the "Iron Brigade," 
 and therefore probably an Iowa boy. He lies on his back 
 at full length, with his musket beside him — calm-look- 
 ing as if asleep, but having a fatal blue mark on his 
 forehead and the ashen pallor of death on his counte- 
 nance. Andy calls me away for a moment to look after 
 some poor fellow whose arm is off at the shoulder; and 
 it was just time I got away, too, for immediately a shell 
 plunges into the sod where I had been sitting, tearing 
 my stretcher to tatters, and ploughing up a great furrow 
 under one of the boys who had been sitting immediately 
 behind me, and who thinks, "That was rather close 
 shaving, was n't it, now?" The bullets whistling over- 
 head make pretty music with their ever- varying "z-i-p! 
 z-i-p!" and we could imagine them so many bees, only 
 they have such a terribly sharp sting. They tell me, too, 
 of a certain cavalryman, Dennis Buckley, Sixth Michi- 
 
 318 
 
A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 gan Cavalry, it was, as I afterwards learned — let his- 
 tory preserve the brave boy's name, who, having had 
 his horse shot under him, and seeing that first-named 
 shell explode in Company C with such disaster, exclaimed, 
 "That is the company for me!" He remained with the 
 regiment all day, doing good service with his carbine, 
 and he escaped unhurt! 
 
 "Here they come, boys; we'll have to go in at them on 
 a charge, I guess!" Creeping close around the corner of 
 the log-house, I can see the long lines of gray sweeping 
 up in fine style over the fields; but I feel the colonel's 
 hand on my shoulder. 
 
 "Keep back, my boy; no use exposing yourself in that 
 way." 
 
 As I get back behind the house and look around, an 
 old man is seen approaching our line through the or- 
 chard in the rear. He is dressed in a long blue swallow- 
 tailed coat and high silk hat, and coming up to the 
 colonel, he asks, — 
 
 "Would you let an old chap like me have a chance to 
 fight in your ranks, colonel?" 
 
 "Can you shoot?" inquires the colonel. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I can shoot, I reckon," says he. 
 
 "But where are your cartridges?" 
 
 "I've got 'em here, sir," says the old man, slapping 
 his hand on his trousers pocket. 
 
 And so "old John Burns," of whom every schoolboy 
 has heard, takes his place in the line, and loads and fires 
 with the best of them, and is left wounded and insensible 
 on the field when the day is done. 
 
 Reclining there under a tree while the skirmishing is 
 going on in front, and the shells are tearing up the sod 
 
 319 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 around us, I observe how evidently hard-pressed is that 
 battery yonder in the edge of the wood, about fifty yards 
 to our right. The enemy's batteries have excellent range 
 on the poor fellows serving it. And when the smoke Hfts 
 or rolls away, in great clouds, for a moment, we can see 
 the men running, and ramming, and sighting, and firing, 
 and swabbing, and changing position every few minutes, 
 to throw the enemy's guns out of range a little. The men 
 are becoming terribly few, but nevertheless their guns, 
 with a rapidity that seems unabated, belch forth great 
 clouds of smoke, and send the shells shrieking over the 
 plain. 
 
 Meanwhile, events occur which give us something 
 more to think of than mere skirmishing and shelling. 
 Our beloved brigadier-general, Roy Stone, stepping out a 
 moment to reconnoiter the enemy's position and move- 
 ments, is seen by some sharpshooter off in a tree, and is 
 carried, severely wounded, into the barn. Our colonel, 
 Langhorne Wister, assumes command of the brigade. 
 Our regiment, facing westward, while the line on our 
 right faces to the north, is observed to be exposed to an 
 enfilading fire from the enemy's guns, as well as from the 
 long line of gray now appearing in full sight on our right. 
 So our regiment must form in line and "change front 
 forward," in order to come in line with the other regi- 
 ments. Accomplished swiftly, this new movement 
 brings our line at once face to face with the enemy's, 
 which advances to within fifty yards, and exchanges a few 
 volleys, but is soon checked and staggered by our fire. 
 
 Yet now, see ! Away to our left, and consequently on 
 our flank, a new line appears, rapidly advancing out of 
 the woods a half mile away, and there must be some 
 
 320 
 
A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 quick and sharp work done now, boys, or, between the 
 old foes in front and the new ones on our flank, we shall 
 be annihilated. To clear us of these old assailants in 
 front before the new line can sweep down on our flank, 
 our brave colonel, in a ringing command, orders a charge 
 along the whole line. Then, before the gleaming and 
 bristling bayonets of our "Bucktail" Brigade as it yells 
 and cheers, sweeping resistlessly over the field, the 
 enemy gives way, and flies in confusion. But there is 
 little time to watch them fly, for that new line on our 
 left is approaching at a rapid pace; and, with shells fall- 
 ing thick and fast into our ranks, and men dropping 
 everywhere, our regiment must reverse the former 
 movement by "changing front to rear," and so resume 
 its original position, facing westward; for the enemy's 
 new line is approaching from that direction, and if it 
 takes us in flank we are done for. 
 
 To "change front to rear" is a diflEicult movement 
 to execute even on drill, much more so under severe fire, 
 but it is executed now, steadily and without confusion, yet 
 not a minute too soon ! For the new line of gray is upon 
 us in a mad tempest of lead, supported by a cruel ar- 
 tillery fire, almost before our line can steady itself to 
 receive the shock. However, partially protected by a 
 post-and-rail fence, we answer fiercely, and with effect 
 so terrific, that the enemy's line wavers, and at length 
 moves off by the right flank, giving us a breathing 
 space for a time. 
 
 During this struggle, there had been many an exciting 
 scene all along the line, as it swayed backward and for- 
 ward over the field, — scenes which we have had no 
 time to mention yet. 
 
 321 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 See yonder, where the colors of the regiment on our 
 right — our sister regiment, the 149th — have been 
 advanced a little, to draw the enemy's fire, while our 
 line sweeps on to the charge. There ensues about the 
 flags a wild melee and close hand-to-hand encounter. 
 Some of the enemy have seized the colors and are making 
 off with them in triumph, shouting victory. But a squad 
 of our own regiment dashes out swiftly, led to the rescue 
 of the stolen colors by Sergeant John C. Kensill, of Com- 
 pany F, who falls to the ground before reaching them, 
 and amid yells and cheers and smoke you see the battle 
 flags rise and fall, and sway hither and thither upon 
 the surging mass, as if tossed on the billows of a tem- 
 pest, until, wrenched away by strong arms, they are 
 borne back in triumph to the line of the 149th. 
 
 See. yonder, again! Our colonel is clapping his hand 
 to his cheek, from which a red stream is pouring; our 
 lieutenant-colonel, Henry S. Huidekoper, is kneeling 
 on the ground, and is having his handkerchief tied tight 
 around his arm at the shoulder; Major Thomas Cham- 
 berlain and Adjutant Richard L. Ashurst both lie low, 
 pierced with balls through the chest; one lieutenant is 
 waving his sword to his men, although his leg is crushed 
 at the knee; three other officers of the line are lying 
 over there, motionless now forever. All over the field 
 are strewn men, wounded or dead, and comrades pause 
 a moment in the mad rush to catch the last words of the 
 dying. Incidents such as these the reader must imagine 
 for himself, to fill in these swift sketches of how the day 
 was won — and lost! 
 
 Aye, lost! For the balls, which have so far come 
 mainly from our front, begin now to sing in from our 
 
 322 
 
A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 left and right, which means that we are being flanked. 
 Somehow, away off to our right, a half-mile or so, our 
 line has given way, and is already on retreat through the 
 town, while our left is being driven in, and we ourselves 
 may shortly be surrounded and crushed — and so the 
 retreat is sounded. 
 
 Back now along the railroad cut we go, or through the 
 orchard and the narrow strip of woods behind it, with 
 our dead scattered around on all sides, and the wounded 
 crying piteously for help. 
 
 "Harry! Harry!" It is a faint cry of a dying man 
 yonder in the grass, and I must see who it is. 
 
 "Why, Willie! Tell me where you are hurt," I ask, 
 kneeling down beside him; and I see the words come 
 hard, for he is fast dying. 
 
 "Here in my side, Harry. Tell — mother — 
 mother — " 
 
 Poor fellow, he can say no more. His head falls back, 
 and Willie is at rest forever! 
 
 On, now, through that strip of woods, at the other edge 
 of which, with my back against a stout oak, I stop and 
 look at a beautiful and thrilling sight. Some reserves 
 are being brought up ; infantry in the center, the colors 
 flying and oflicers shouting; cavalry on the right, with 
 sabers flashing and horses on a trot; artillery on the left, 
 with guns at full gallop sweeping into position to check 
 the headlong pursuit, — it is a grand sight, and a fine 
 rally; but a vain one, for in an hour we are swept off the 
 field, and are in full retreat through the town. 
 
 Up through the streets hurries the remnant of our 
 shattered corps, while the enemy is pouring into the 
 town only a few squares away from us. There is a tern- 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 pest of shrieking shells and whistling balls about our ears. 
 The guns of that battery by the woods we have dragged 
 along, all the horses being disabled. The artillery men 
 load as we go, double-charging with grape and canister. 
 
 *'Make way there, men!" is the cry, and the surging 
 mass crowds close up on the sidewalks to right and left, 
 leaving a long lane down the center of the street, through 
 which the grape and canister go rattling into the ranks 
 of the enemy's advance guard. 
 
 And so, amid scenes which I have neither space nor 
 power to describe, we gain Cemetery Ridge toward 
 sunset, and throw ourselves down by the road in a 
 tumult of excitement and grief, having lost the day 
 through the overwhelming force of numbers, and yet 
 somehow having gained it, too, although as yet we know 
 it not, for the sacrifice of our corps has saved the posi- 
 tion for the rest of the army, which has been marching 
 all day, and which comes pouring in over Cemetery 
 Ridge all night long. 
 
 Aye, the position is saved; but where is our corps? 
 Well may our division general, Doubleday, who early 
 in the day succeeded to the command, when our brave 
 Reynolds had fallen, shed tears of grief as he sits there 
 on his horse and looks over the shattered remains of that 
 First Army Corps, for there is but a handful of it left. 
 Of the five hundred and fifty men that marched under 
 our regimental colors in the morning, but one hundred 
 remain. All our field and staff ofiicers are gone. Of 
 some twenty captains and lieutenants, but one is left 
 without a scratch, while of my own company only 
 thirteen out of fifty-four sleep that night on Cemetery 
 Ridge, under the open canopy of heaven. There is no 
 
 324 
 
GETTYSBURG FIFTY YEARS AFTER 
 
A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 roll call, for Sergeant Weidensaul will call the roll no 
 more; nor will Joe Gutelius, nor Joe Ruhl, nor Mc- 
 Fadden, nor Henning, nor many others of our comrades 
 whom we miss, ever answer to their names again until 
 the world's last great reveille. 
 
FARRAGUT 
 
 [Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864] 
 BY WILLIAM TUCKEY MEREDITH 
 
 Farragut, Farragut, 
 
 Old Heart of Oak, 
 Daring Dave Farragut, 
 
 Thunderbolt stroke, 
 Watches the hoary mist 
 
 Lift from the bay, 
 Till his flag, glory-kissed, 
 
 Greets the young day. 
 
 Far, by gray Morgan's walls. 
 
 Looms the black fleet. 
 Hark, deck to rampart calls 
 
 With the drums' beat! 
 Buoy your chains overboard. 
 
 While the steam hums; 
 Men! to the battlement, 
 
 Farragut comes. 
 
 See, as the hurricane 
 
 Hurtles in wrath 
 Squadrons of clouds amain 
 
 Back from its path! 
 Back to the parapet, 
 
 To the guns' lips, 
 326 
 
FARRAGUT 
 
 Thunderbolt Farragut 
 Hurls the black ships. 
 
 Now through the battle's roar 
 
 Clear the boy sings, 
 "By the mark fathoms four," 
 While his lead swings. 
 Steady the wheelmen five 
 
 *'Nor' by East keep her/' 
 "Steady," but two alive: 
 How the shells sweep her! 
 
 Lashed to the mast that sways 
 
 Over red decks, 
 Over the flame that plays 
 
 Round the torn wrecks. 
 Over the dying lips 
 
 Framed for a cheer, 
 Farragut leads his ships, 
 
 Guides the line clear. 
 
 On by heights cannon-browed, 
 
 While the spars quiver; 
 Onward still flames the cloud 
 
 Where the hulks shiver. 
 See, yon fort's star is set, 
 
 Storm and fire past. 
 Cheer him, lads, — Farragut, 
 
 Lashed to the mast! 
 
 Oh ! while Atlantic's breast 
 Bears a white sail, 
 
 327 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 While the Gulf's towering crest 
 
 Tops a green vale, 
 Men thy bold deeds shall tell, 
 
 Old Heart of Oak, 
 Daring Dave Farragut, 
 
 Thunderbolt stroke! 
 
AN AUGUST MORNING WITH FARRAGUT 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 AN EPISODE OF THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR 
 
 [1870] 
 
 BY £mILE ZOLA 
 
 It was nearly ten o'clock up on the Plateau de I'Algerie, 
 and still the men of Beaudoin's company were resting 
 supine, among the cabbages, in the field whence they 
 had not budged since early morning. The cross fire from 
 the batteries on Hattoy and the peninsula of Iges was 
 hotter than ever; it had just killed two more of their 
 number, and there were no orders for them to advance. 
 Were they to stay there and be shelled all day, without 
 a chance to see anything of the fighting? 
 
 They were even denied the relief of discharging their 
 chasse-pots. Captain Beaudoin had at last put his foot 
 down and stopped the firing, that senseless fusillade 
 against the little wood in front of them, which seemed 
 entirely deserted by the Prussians. The heat was sti- 
 fling; it seemed to them that they should roast, stretched 
 there on the ground under the blazing sky. . . . 
 
 Maurice's attention was attracted to the sick-bearers, 
 whose movements he watched with interest as they 
 searched for wounded men among the depressions of the 
 ground. At the end of a sunken road, and protected by 
 a low ridge not far from their position, a flying ambu- 
 lance of first aid had been established, and its emissaries 
 had begun to explore the plateau. A tent was quickly 
 erected, while from the hospital van the attendants 
 
 329 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 extracted the necessary supplies; compresses, bandages, 
 linen, and the few indispensable instruments required 
 for the hasty dressings they gave before dispatching the 
 patients to Sedan, which they did as rapidly as they 
 could secure wagons, the supply of which was limited. 
 There was an assistant surgeon in charge, with two 
 subordinates of inferior rank under him. In all the 
 army none showed more gallantry and received less 
 acknowledgment than the Htter-bearers. They could be 
 seen all over the field in their gray uniforms, with the 
 distinctive red badges on their caps and on their arms, 
 courageously risking their lives and unhurriedly pushing 
 forward through the thickest of the fire to the spots 
 where men had been seen to fall. At times they would 
 creep on hands and knees; would always take advantage 
 of a hedge or ditch, or any shelter that was afforded by 
 the conformation of the ground, never exposing them- 
 selves unnecessarily out of bravado. When at last they 
 reached the fallen men their painful task commenced, 
 which was made more difficult and protracted by the 
 fact that many of the subjects had fainted, and it was 
 hard to tell whether they were alive or dead. Some lay 
 face downward with their mouths in a pool of blood, in 
 danger of suffocating, others had bitten the ground until 
 their throats were choked with dry earth, others, where 
 a shell had fallen among a group, were a confused, inter- 
 twined heap of mangled limbs and crushed trunks. 
 With infinite care and patience the bearers would go 
 through the tangled mass, separating the living from the 
 dead, arranging their limbs and raising their heads to 
 give them air, cleansing their faces as well as they 
 could with the means at their command. Each of them 
 
 330 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 carried a bucket of cool water, which he had to use very 
 sparingly. And Maurice could see them thus engaged, 
 often for minutes at a time, kneeling by some man 
 whom they were trying to resuscitate, waiting for him 
 to show some sign of life. 
 
 He watched one of them, some fifty yards away to the 
 left, w^orking over the wound of a little soldier from the 
 sleeve of whose tunic a thin stream of blood was trick- 
 ling, drop by drop. The man of the red cross discovered 
 the source of the hemorrhage and finally checked it by 
 compressing the artery. In urgent cases, like that of 
 the Uttle soldier, they rendered these partial attentions, 
 locating fractures, bandaging and immobilizing the 
 limbs so as to reduce the danger of transportation. And 
 the transportation, even, was an affair that called for 
 a great deal of judgment and ingenuity; they assisted 
 those who could walk, and carried others, either in their 
 arms, like little children, or pickaback when the nature 
 of the hurt allowed it; at other times they united in 
 groups of two, three, or four, according to the require- 
 ments of the case, and made a chair by joining their 
 hands, or carried the patient off by his legs and shoul- 
 ders in a recumbent posture. In addition to the stretch- 
 ers provided by the medical department there were all 
 sorts of temporary makeshifts, such as the stretchers 
 improvised from knapsack straps and a couple of mus- 
 kets. And in every direction on the unsheltered, shell- 
 swept plain they could be seen, singly or in groups, 
 hastening with their dismal loads to the rear, their heads 
 bowed and picking thek steps, an admirable spectacle 
 of prudent heroism. 
 
 Maurice saw a pair on his right, a thin, puny little 
 
 331 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 fellow lugging a burly sergeant, with both legs broken, 
 suspended from his neck; the sight reminded the young 
 man of an ant toiling under a burden many times larger 
 than itself; and even as he watched them a shell burst 
 directly in their path and they were lost to view. When 
 the smoke cleared away the sergeant was seen lying on 
 his back, having received no further injury, while the 
 bearer lay beside him, disemboweled. And another 
 came up, another toiling ant, who, when he had turned 
 his dead comrade on his back and examined him, took 
 the sergeant up and made off with his load. . . . 
 
 At last the two batteries of reserve artillery came up. 
 Their arrival was an immense relief to the anxiously 
 expectant men, as if the guns were to be a rampart of 
 protection to them and at the same time demolish the 
 hostile batteries that were thundering against them 
 from every side. And then, too, it was in itself an exhil- 
 arating spectacle to see the magnificent order they pre- 
 served as they came dashing up, each gun followed by 
 its caisson, the drivers seated on the near horse and 
 holding the off horse by the bridle, the cannoneers bolt 
 upright on the chests, the chiefs of detachment riding in 
 their proper position on the flank. Distances were pre- 
 served as accurately as if they were on parade, and all 
 the time they were tearing across the fields at headlong 
 speed, with the roar and crash of a hurricane. 
 
 Maurice, who had lain down again, arose and said to 
 Jean in great excitement : — 
 
 "Look! over there on the left, that is Honore's bat- 
 tery. I can recognize the men." 
 
 Jean gave him a back-handed blow that brought him 
 down to his recumbent position. 
 
 332 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 "Lie down, will you! and make believe dead!" 
 
 But they were both deeply interested in watching the 
 maneuvers of the battery, and never once removed their 
 eyes from it; it cheered their heart to witness the cool 
 and intrepid activity of those men, who, they hoped, 
 might yet bring victory to them. 
 
 The battery had wheeled into position on a bare sum- 
 mit to the left, where it brought up all standing; then, 
 quick as a flash, the cannoneers leaped from the chests 
 and unhooked the limbers, and the drivers, leaving the 
 guns in position, drove fifteen yards to the rear, where 
 they wheeled again so as to bring teams and limbers face 
 to the enemy and there remained, motionless as statues. 
 In less time than it takes to tell it the guns were in 
 place, with the proper intervals between them, distrib- 
 uted into three sections of two guns each, each section 
 commanded by a lieutenant — and over the whole a 
 captain, a long ma3^ole of a man, who made a ter- 
 ribly conspicuous landmark on the plateau. And this 
 captain, having first made a brief calculation, was heard 
 to shout : — 
 
 "Sight for sixteen hundred yards!" 
 
 Their fire was to be directed upon a Prussian battery, 
 screened by some bushes, to the left of Fleigneux, the 
 shells from which were rendering the position of the Cal- 
 vary untenable. 
 
 "Honore's piece, you see," Maurice began again, 
 whose excitement was such that he could not keep still. 
 "Honore's piece is in the center section. There he is 
 now, bending over to speak to the gunner; you remember 
 Louis, the gunner, don't you? — the little fellow with 
 whom we had a drink at Vouziers? And that fellow in 
 
 333 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the rear, who sits so straight on his handsome chestnut, 
 is Adolphe, the driver — " 
 
 First came the gun with its chief and six cannoneers, 
 then the Hmber with its four horses ridden by two men, 
 beyond that the caisson with its six horses and three 
 drivers, still farther to the rear were the prolonge, forge, 
 and battery wagon; and this array of men, horses and 
 material extended to the rear in a straight unbroken line 
 of more than a hundred yards in length; to say nothing 
 of the spare caisson and the men and beasts who were to 
 fill the places of those removed by casualties, who were 
 stationed at one side, as much as possible out of the 
 enemy's line of fire. 
 
 And now Honore was attending to the loading of his 
 gun. The two men whose duty it was to fetch the cart- 
 ridge and the projectile returned from the caisson, where 
 the corporal and the artificer were stationed ; two other 
 cannoneers, standing at the muzzle of the piece, slipped 
 into the bore the cartridge, a charge of powder in an 
 envelope of serge, and gently drove it home with the 
 rammer, then in like manner introduced the shell, the 
 studs of which creaked faintly in the spirals of the rifling. 
 When the primer was inserted in the vent and all was in 
 readiness, Honore thought he would like to point the 
 gun himself for the first shot, and throwing himself in a 
 semi-recumbent posture on the trail, working with one 
 hand the screw that regulated the elevation, with the 
 other he signaled continually to the gunner, who, stand- 
 ing behind him, moved the piece by imperceptible de- 
 grees to right or left with the assistance of the lever. 
 
 "That ought to be about right," he said as he arose. 
 
 The captain came up, and stooping until his long 
 
 334 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 body was bent almost double, verified the elevation. 
 At each gun stood the assistant gunner, waiting to pull 
 the lanyard that should ignite the fulminate by means of 
 a serrated wire. And the orders were given in succession, 
 deliberately, by number: — ■ 
 
 "Number one, Fire! Number two, Fire!" 
 
 Six reports were heard, the guns recoiled, and while 
 they were brought back to position the chiefs of detach- 
 ment observed the effect of the shots and found that the 
 range was short. They made the necessary correction 
 and the evolution was repeated, in exactly the same 
 manner as before; and it was that cool precision, that 
 mechanical routine of duty, without agitation and with- 
 out haste, that did so much to maintain the morale of 
 the men. They were a little family, united by the tie of 
 a common occupation, grouped around the gun, which 
 they loved and reverenced as if it had been a living 
 thing; it was the object of all their care and attention, to 
 it all else was subservient, men, horses, caisson, every- 
 thing. Thence also arose the spirit of unity and cohesion 
 that animated the battery at large, making all its mem- 
 bers work together for the common glory and the com- 
 mon good, like a well-regulated household. 
 
 The io6th had cheered lustily at the completion of 
 the first round; they were going to make those bloody 
 Prussian guns shut their mouths at last ! but their elation 
 was succeeded by dismay when it was seen that the 
 projectiles fell short, many of them bursting in the air 
 and never reaching the bushes that served to mask the 
 enemy's artillery. 
 
 "Honore," Maurice continued, "says that all the 
 other pieces are popguns and that his old girl is the only 
 
 335 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 one that is good for anything. Ah, his old girl! He talks 
 as if she were his wife and there were not another like her 
 in the world ! Just notice how jealously he watches her 
 and makes the men clean her off ! I suppose he is afraid 
 she will overheat herself and take cold!" 
 
 He continued rattling on in this pleasant vein to Jean, 
 both of them cheered and encouraged by the cool 
 braver}' with which the artillerymen served their guns; 
 but the Prussian batteries, after firing three rounds, had 
 now got the range, which, too long at the beginning, 
 they had at last ciphered down to such a fine point that 
 their shells were landed invariably among the French 
 pieces, while the latter, notwithstanding the efforts that 
 were made to increase their range, still continued to 
 place their projectiles short of the enemy's position. 
 One of Honore's cannoneers was killed while loading the 
 piece; the others pushed the body out of their way, and 
 the service went on with the same methodical precision, 
 with neither more nor less haste. In the midst of the 
 projectiles that fell and burst continually the same un- 
 varying rhythmical movements went on uninterrupt- 
 edly about the gun; the cartridge and shell were intro- 
 duced, the gun was pointed, the lanyard pulled, the 
 carriage brought back to place; and all with such unde- 
 viating regularity that the men might have been taken 
 for automatons, devoid of sight and hearing. 
 
 What impressed Maurice, however, more than any- 
 thing else, was the attitude of the drivers, sitting 
 straight and stiff in their saddles fifteen yards to the 
 rear, face to the enemy. There was Adolphe, the broad- 
 chested, with his big blond mustache across his rubi- 
 cund face; and who shall tell the amount of courage a 
 
 336 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 man must have to enable him to sit without winking and 
 watch the shells coming toward him, and he not allowed 
 even to twirl his thumbs by way of diversion ! The men 
 who served the guns had something to occupy their 
 minds, while the drivers, condemned to immobility, had 
 death constantly before their eyes, and plenty of leisure 
 to speculate on probabilities. They were made to face 
 the battle-field because, had they turned their backs to 
 it, the coward that so often lurks at the bottom of man's 
 nature might have got the better of them and swept 
 away man and beast. It is the unseen danger that makes 
 dastards of us; that which we can see, we brave. The 
 army has no more gallant set of men in its ranks than 
 the drivers in their obscure position. 
 
 Another man had been killed, two horses of a caisson 
 had been disemboweled, and the enemy kept up such a 
 murderous fire that there was a prospect of the entire 
 battery being knocked to pieces should they persist in 
 holding that position longer. It was time to take some 
 step to baffle that tremendous fire, notwithstanding the 
 danger there was in moving, and the captain unhesita- 
 tingly gave orders to bring up the limbers. 
 
 The risky maneuver was executed with lightning 
 speed; the drivers came up at a gallop, wheeled their 
 limbers into position in rear of the guns, when the can- 
 noneers raised the trails of the pieces and hooked on. The 
 movement, however, collecting as it did, momentarily, 
 men and horses on the battery front in something of a 
 huddle, created a certain degree of confusion, of which 
 the enemy took advantage by increasing the rapidity of 
 their fire; three more men dropped. The teams darted 
 away at breakneck speed, describing an arc of a circle 
 
 337 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 among the fields, and the battery took up its new posi- 
 tion some fifty or sixty yards more to the right, on a 
 gentle eminence that was situated on the other flank of 
 the io6th. The pieces were unlimbered, the drivers 
 resumed their stations at the rear, face to the enemy, and 
 the firing was reopened; and so little time was lost 
 between leaving their old post and taking up the new 
 that the earth had barely ceased to tremble under the 
 concussion. 
 
 Maurice uttered a cry of dismay, when, after three 
 attempts, the Prussians had again got their range; the 
 first shell landed squarely on Honore's gun. The artil- 
 leryman rushed forward, and with a trembling hand felt 
 to ascertain what damage had been done his pet; a great 
 wedge had been chipped from the bronze muzzle. But it 
 was not disabled, and the work went on as before, after 
 they had removed from beneath the wheels the body of 
 another cannoneer, with whose blood the entire carriage 
 was besplashed. 
 
 "It was not little Louis; I am glad of that," said 
 Maurice, continuing to think aloud. "There he is now, 
 pointing his gun; he must be wounded, though, for he 
 is only using his left arm. Ah, he is a brave lad, is little 
 Louis; and how well he and Adolphe get on together, in 
 spite of their little tiffs, only provided the gunner, the 
 man who serves on foot, shows a proper amount of 
 respect for the driver, the man who rides a horse, not- 
 withstanding that the latter is by far the more ignorant 
 of the two. Now that they are under fire, though, Louis 
 is as good a man as Adolphe — " 
 
 Jean, who had been watching events in silence, gave 
 utterance to a distressful cry: — 
 
 338 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 "They will have to give it up ! No troops in the world 
 could stand such a fire." 
 
 Within the space of five minutes the second position 
 had become as untenable as was the first; the projectiles 
 kept falling with the same persistency, the same deadly 
 precision. A shell dismounted a gun, fracturing the 
 chase, killing a Heutenant and two men. Not one of the 
 enemy's shots failed to reach, and at each discharge they 
 secured a still greater accuracy of range, so that if the 
 battery should remain there another five minutes they 
 would not have a gun or a man left. The crushing 
 fire threatened to wipe them all out of existence. 
 
 Again the captain's ringing voice was heard ordering 
 up the limbers. The drivers dashed up at a gallop and 
 wheeled their teams into place to allow the cannoneers 
 to hook on the guns, but before Adolphe had time to get 
 up Louis was struck by a fragment of shell that tore 
 open his throat and broke his jaw ; he fell across the trail 
 of the carriage just as he was on the point of raising it. 
 Adolphe was there instantly, and beholding his pros- 
 trate comrade weltering in his blood, jumped from his 
 horse and was about to raise him to the saddle and bear 
 him away. And at that moment, just as the battery 
 was exposed flank to the enemy in the act of wheeling, 
 offering a fair target, a crashing discharge came, and 
 Adolphe reeled and fell to the ground, his chest crushed 
 in, with arms wide extended. In his supreme convul- 
 sion he seized his comrade about the body, and thus 
 they lay, locked in each other's arms in a last embrace, 
 '' married" even in death. 
 
 Notwithstanding the slaughtered horses and the con- 
 fusion that that death-dealing discharge had caused 
 
 339 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 among the men, the battery had rattled up the slope 
 of a hillock and taken post a few yards from the spot 
 where Jean and Maurice were lying. For the third time 
 the guns were unlimbered, the drivers retired to the 
 rear and faced the enemy, and the cannoneers, with a 
 gallantry that nothing could daunt, at once reopened 
 fire. 
 
 ''It is as if the end of all things were at hand!" said 
 Maurice, the sound of whose voice was lost in the up- 
 roar. 
 
 It seemed indeed as if heaven and earth were con- 
 founded in that hideous din. Great rocks were cleft 
 asunder, the sun was hid from sight at times in clouds 
 of sulphurous vapor. When the cataclysm w^as at its 
 height the horses stood with drooping heads, trembling, 
 dazed with terror. The captain's tall form was every- 
 where upon the eminence; suddenly he was seen no 
 more; a shell had cut him clean in two, and he sank, as 
 a ship's mast that is snapped off at the base. 
 
 But it was about Honore's gun, even more than the 
 others, that the conflict raged, with cool efhciency and 
 obstinate determination. The non-commissioned officer 
 found it necessary to forget his chevrons for the time 
 being and lend a hand in working the piece, for he had 
 now but three cannoneers left; he pointed the gun and 
 pulled the lanyard, while the others brought ammuni- 
 tion from the caisson, loaded, and handled the rammer 
 and the sponge. He had sent for men and horses from 
 the battery reserves that were kept to supply the places 
 of those removed by casualties, but they were slow in 
 coming, and in the mean time the survivors must do the 
 work of the dead. It was a great discouragement to all 
 
 340 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 that their projectiles ranged short and burst ahnost 
 without exception in the air, inflicting no injury on the 
 powerful batteries of the foe, the fire of which was so 
 efficient. And suddenly Honore let slip an oath that 
 was heard above the thunder of the battle; ill-luck, ill- 
 luck, nothing but ill-luck! the right wheel of his piece 
 was smashed ! Tonnerre de Dieu ! what a state she was 
 in, the poor darling! stretched on her side with a broken 
 paw, her nose buried in the ground, crippled and good 
 for nothing ! The sight brought big tears to his eyes, he 
 laid his trembling hand upon the breech, as if the ardor 
 of his love might avail to warm his dear mistress back 
 to life. And the best gun of them all, the only one that 
 had been able to drop a few shells among the enemy! 
 Then suddenly he conceived a daring project, nothing 
 less than to repair the injury there and then, under that 
 terrible fire. Assisted by one of his men he ran back to 
 the caisson and secured the spare wheel that was at- 
 tached to the rear axle, and then commenced the most 
 dangerous operation that can be executed on a battle- 
 field. Fortunately the extra men and horses that he had 
 sent for came up just then, and he had two cannoneers 
 to lend him a hand. 
 
 For the third time, however, the strength of the bat- 
 tery was so reduced as practically to disable it. To push 
 their heroic daring further would be madness; the order 
 was given to abandon the position definitely. 
 
 " Make haste, comrades ! " Honore exclaimed. " Even 
 if she is fit for no further service we '11 carry her off; those 
 fellows shan't have her!" 
 
 To save the gun, even as men risk their lives to save 
 the flag; that was his idea. And he had not ceased to 
 
 341 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 speak when he was stricken down as by a thunderbolt, 
 his right arm torn from its socket, his left flank laid 
 open. He had fallen upon his gun he loved so well, and 
 lay there as if stretched on a bed of honor, with head 
 erect, his unmutilated face turned toward the enemy, 
 and bearing an expression of proud defiance that made 
 him beautiful in death. From his torn jacket a letter 
 had fallen to the ground and lay in the pool of blood 
 that dribbled slowly from above. 
 
 The only lieutenant left alive shouted the order: — 
 
 "Bring up the limbers!" 
 
 A caisson had exploded with a roar that rent the skies. 
 They were obliged to take the horses from another cais- 
 son in order to save the gun of which the team had been 
 killed. And when, for the last time, the drivers had 
 brought up their smoking horses and the guns had been 
 limbered up, the whole battery flew away at a gallop 
 and never stopped until they reached the edge of the 
 wood of La Garenne, nearly twelve hundred yards away. 
 
 Maurice had seen the whole. He shivered with hor- 
 ror, and murmured mechanically, in a faint voice: — 
 
 "Oh! poor fellow, poor fellow!" 
 
 In addition to this feeling of mental distress he had 
 a horrible sensation of physical suffering, as if some- 
 thing was gnawing at his vitals. It was the animal por- 
 tion of his nature asserting itself; he was at the end of 
 his endurance, was ready to sink with hunger. His per- 
 ceptions were dimmed, he was not even conscious of the 
 dangerous position the regiment was in now it was no 
 longer protected by the battery. It was more than 
 likely that the enemy would not long delay to attack 
 the plateau in force. 
 
 342 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 "Look here," he said to Jean, "I must eat — if I am 
 to be killed for it the next minute, I must eat." 
 
 He opened his knapsack and, taking out the bread 
 with shaking hands, set his teeth in it voraciously. The 
 bullets were whistling above their heads, two shells ex- 
 ploded only a few yards away, but all was as naught to 
 him in comparison with his craving hunger, 
 
 "Will you have some, Jean?" 
 
 The corporal was watching him with hungry eyes and 
 a stupid expression on his face; his stomach was also 
 twinging him. 
 
 "Yes, I don't care if I do; this suffering is more than 
 I can stand." 
 
 They divided the loaf between them and each de- 
 voured his portion gluttonously, unmindful of what was 
 going on about them so long as a crumb remained. And 
 it was at that time that they saw their colonel for the 
 last, time, sitting his big horse, with his blood-stained 
 boot. The regiment was surrounded on every side; al- 
 ready some of the companies had left the field. Then, 
 unable longer to restrain their flight, with tears standing 
 in his eyes and raising his sword above his head : — 
 
 "My children," cried M. de Vineuil, "I commend 
 you to the protection of God, who thus far has spared 
 us all!" 
 
 He rode off down the hill, surrounded by a swarm of 
 fugitives, and vanished from their sight. 
 
 Then, they knew not how, Maurice and Jean found 
 themselves once more behind the hedge, with the rem- 
 nant of their company. Some forty men at the outside 
 were all that remained, with Lieutenant Rochas as their 
 commander, and the regimental standard was with 
 
 343 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 them; the subaltern who carried it had furled the silk 
 about the staff in order to try to save it. They made 
 their way along the hedge, as far as it extended, to a 
 cluster of small trees upon a hillside, where Rochas 
 made them halt and reopen fire. The men, dispersed 
 in skirmishing order and sufficiently protected, could 
 hold their ground, the more that an important cavalry 
 movement was in preparation on their right and regi- 
 ments of infantry were being brought up to support it. 
 
 It was at that moment that Maurice comprehended 
 the full scope of that mighty, irresistible turning move- 
 ment that was now drawing near completion. That 
 morning he had watched the Prussians debouching by 
 the Saint-Albert pass and had seen their advanced guard 
 pushed forward, first to Saint-Menges, then to Fleigneux, 
 and now, behind the wood of La Garenne, he could 
 hear the thunder of the artillery of the Guard, could 
 behold other German uniforms arriving on the scene 
 over the hills of Givonne. Yet a few moments, it might 
 be, and the circle would be complete; the Guard would 
 join hands with the Fifth Corps, surrounding the French 
 army with a living wall, girdling them about with a belt 
 of flaming artillery. It was with the resolve to make 
 one supreme, desperate effort, to try to hew a passage 
 through that advancing wall, that General Margueritte's 
 division of the reserve cavalry was massing behind a 
 protecting crest preparatory to charging. They were 
 about to charge into the jaws of death, with no possi- 
 bility of achieving any useful result, solely for the glory 
 of France and the French army. And Maurice, whose 
 thoughts turned to Prosper, was a witness of the terrible 
 spectacle. 
 
 344 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 What between the messages that were given him to 
 carry and their answers, Prosper had been kept busy 
 since daybreak spurring up and down the plateau of 
 Illy. The cavalrymen had been awakened at peep of 
 dawn, man by man, without sound of trumpet, and to 
 make their morning coffee had devised the ingenious 
 expedient of screening their fire with a greatcoat so as 
 not to attract the attention of the enemy. Then there 
 came a period when they were left entirely to them- 
 selves, with nothing to occupy them; they seemed to 
 be forgotten by their cannoneers. They could hear the 
 sound of the cannonading, could descry the puffs of 
 smoke, could see the distant movements of the infantry, 
 but were utterly ignorant of the battle, its importance, 
 and its results. Prosper, as far as he was concerned, was 
 suffering from want of sleep. The cumulative fatigue 
 induced by many nights of broken rest, the invincible 
 somnolency caused by the easy gait of his mount, made 
 life a burden. He dreamed dreams and saw visions; 
 now he was sleeping comfortably in a bed between clean 
 sheets; now snoring on the bare ground among sharp- 
 ened flints. For minutes at a time he would actually be 
 sound asleep in his saddle, a lifeless clod, his steed's 
 intelligence answering for both. Under such circum- 
 stances comrades had often tumbled from their seats 
 upon the road. They were so fagged that when they 
 slept the trumpets no longer awakened them; the only 
 way to rouse them from their lethargy and get them on 
 their feet was to kick them soundly. 
 
 "But what are they going to do, what are they going 
 to do with us?" Prosper kept saying to himself. It was 
 the only thing he could think of to keep himself awake. 
 
 345 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 For six hours the cannon had been thundering. As 
 they climbed a hill two comrades, riding at his side, had 
 been struck down by a shell, and as they rode onward 
 seven or eight others had bit the dust, pierced by rifle- 
 balls that came no one could say whence. It was be- 
 coming tiresome, that slow parade, as useless as it was 
 dangerous, up and down the battle-field. At last — it 
 was about one o'clock — he learned that it had been 
 decided they were to be killed off in a somewhat more 
 decent manner. Margueritte's entire division, compris- 
 ing three regiments of chasseurs de France, and one 
 of hussars, had been drawn in and posted in a shallow 
 valley a little to the south of the Calvary of Illy. The 
 trumpets had sounded: "Dismount!" and then the 
 officers' command ran down the line to tighten girths 
 and look to packs. 
 
 Prosper alighted, stretched his cramped limbs, and 
 gave Zephyr a friendly pat upon the neck . Poor Zephyr ! 
 he felt the degradation of the ignominious, heartbreak- 
 ing service they were subjected to almost as keenly as 
 his master; and not only that, but he had to carry a small 
 arsenal of stores and implements of various kinds; the 
 holsters stuffed with his master's linen and undercloth- 
 ing and the greatcoat rolled above, the stable suit, 
 blouse, and overalls, and the sack containing brushes, 
 currycomb, and other articles of equine toilet behind 
 the saddle, the haversack with rations slung at his side, 
 to say nothing of such trifles as side-lines and picket- 
 pins, the watering bucket and the wooden basin. The 
 cavalryman's tender heart was stirred by a feeling of 
 compassion, as he tightened up the girth and looked 
 to see that everything was secure in its place. 
 
 346 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 It was a trying moment. Prosper was no more a 
 coward than the next man, but his mouth was intoler- 
 ably dry and hot; he lit a cigarette in the hope that it 
 would relieve the unpleasant sensation. When about to 
 charge no man can assert with any degree of certainty 
 that he will ride back again. The suspense lasted some 
 five or six minutes; it was said that General Margue- 
 ritte had ridden forward to reconnoiter the ground over 
 which they were to charge ; they were awaiting his re- 
 turn. The five regiments had been formed in three col- 
 umns, each column having a depth of seven squadrons; 
 enough to afford an ample meal to the hostile guns. 
 
 Presently the trumpets rang out: "To horse!" and 
 this was succeeded almost immediately by the shrill 
 summons: "Draw sabers!" 
 
 The colonel of each regiment had previously ridden 
 out and taken his proper position, twenty-five yards 
 to the front, the captains were all at their posts at the 
 head of their squadrons. Then there was another period 
 of anxious waiting, amid a silence heavy as that of 
 death. Not a sound, not a breath, there, beneath the 
 blazing sun, nothing, save the beating of those brave 
 hearts. One order more, the supreme, the decisive one, 
 and that mass, now so inert and motionless, would be- 
 come a resistless tornado, sweeping all before it. 
 
 At that juncture, however, an officer appeared coming 
 over the crest of the hill in front, wounded, and preserv- 
 ing his seat in the saddle only by the assistance of a man 
 on either side. No one recognized him at first, but 
 presently a deep, ominous murmur begain to run from 
 squadron to squadron, which quickly swelled into a 
 furious uproar. It was General Margueritte, who had 
 
 347 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 received a wound from which he died a few days later; 
 a musket-ball had passed through both cheeks, carry- 
 ing away a portion of the tongue and palate. He was 
 incapable of speech, but waved his arm in the direction 
 of the enemy. The fury of his men knew no bounds; 
 their cries rose louder still upon the air. 
 
 "It is our general! Avenge him, avenge him!" 
 
 Then the colonel of the first regiment, raising aloft 
 his saber, shouted in a voice of thunder : — 
 
 ''Charge!" 
 
 The trumpets sounded, the column broke into a trot 
 and was away. Prosper was in the leading squadron, 
 but almost at the extreme right of the right wing, a 
 position of less danger than the center, upon which the 
 enemy always naturally concentrate their hottest fire. 
 When they had topped the summit of the Calvary and 
 began to descend the slope beyond that led downward 
 into the broad plain he had a distinct view, some two- 
 thirds of a mile away, of the Prussian squares that were 
 to be the object of their attack. Beside that vision all 
 the rest was dim and confused before his eyes; he moved 
 onward as one in a dream, with a strange ringing in his 
 ears, a sensation of voidness in his mind that left him 
 incapable of framing an idea. He was a part of the great 
 engine that tore along, controlled by a superior will. 
 The command ran along the line: "Keep touch of knees! 
 Keep touch of knees!" in order to keep the men closed 
 up and give their ranks the resistance and rigidity of a 
 wall of granite; and as their trot became swifter and 
 swifter and finally broke into a mad gallop, the chas- 
 seurs d'Afrique gave their wild Arab cry that excited 
 their wiry steeds to the verge of frenzy. Onward they 
 
 348 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 tore, faster and faster still, until their gallop was a race 
 of unchained demons, their shouts the shrieks of souls 
 in mortal agony ; onward they plunged amid a storm of 
 bullets that rattled on casque and breastplate, on buckle 
 and scabbard, with a sound like hail; into the bosom 
 of that hailstorm flashed that thunderbolt beneath 
 which the earth shook and trembled, leaving behind it, 
 as it passed, an odor of burned woolen and the exhala- 
 tions of wild beasts. 
 
 At five hundred yards the line wavered an instant, 
 then swirled and broke in a frightful eddy that brought 
 Prosper to the ground. He clutched Zephyr by the mane 
 and succeeded in recovering his seat. The center had 
 given way, riddled, almost annihilated as it was by the 
 musketry fire, while the two wings had wheeled and 
 ridden back a little way to renew their formation. It 
 was the foreseen, foredoomed destruction of the leading 
 squadron. Disabled horses covered the ground, some 
 quiet in death, but many struggling violently in their 
 strong agony; and ever3rwhere dismounted riders could 
 be seen, running as fast as their short legs would let 
 them, to capture other mounts for themselves. Many 
 horses that had lost their masters came galloping back to 
 the squadron and took their places in line of their own 
 accord, to rush with their comrades back into the fire 
 again, as if there was some strange attraction for them 
 in the smell of gunpowder. The charge was resumed; 
 the second squadron went forward, like the first, at a 
 constantly accelerated rate of speed, the men bending 
 upon their horses' necks, holding the sabers along the 
 thighs, ready for use upon the enemy. Two hundred 
 yards more were gained this time, amid the thunderous, 
 
 349 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 deafening uproar, but again the center broke under the 
 storm of bullets; men and horses went down in heaps, 
 and the piled corpses made an insurmountable barrier 
 for those who followed. Thus was the second ^squadron 
 in its turn mown down, annihilated, leaving its task to 
 be accomplished by those who came after. 
 
 When for the third time the men were called upon to 
 charge and responded with invincible heroism, Prosper 
 found that his companions were principally hussars 
 and chasseurs de France. Regiments and squadrons, as 
 organizations, had ceased to exist; their constituent 
 elements were drops in the mighty wave that alternately 
 broke and reared its crest again, to swallow up all that 
 lay in its destructive path. He had long since lost dis- 
 tinctive consciousness of what was going on around 
 him, and suffered his movements to be guided by his 
 mount, faithful Zephyr, who had received a wound in 
 the ear that seemed to madden him. He was now in the 
 center, where all about him horses were rearing, pawing 
 the air, and falling backward ; men were dismounted as 
 if torn from their saddles by the blast of a tornado, while 
 others, shot through some vital part, retained their seats 
 and rode onward in the ranks with vacant, sightless 
 eyes. And looking back over the' additional two hun- 
 dred yards that this effort had won for them, they could 
 see the field of yellow stubble strewn thick with dead and 
 dying. Some there were who had fallen headlong from 
 their saddles and buried their faces in the soft earth. 
 Others had alighted on their backs, and were staring 
 up into the s\m with terror-stricken eyes that seemed 
 bursting from their sockets. There was a handsome 
 black horse, an officer's charger, that had been disem- 
 
 350 
 
THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 
 
 boweled, and was making frantic efforts to rise, his fore 
 feet entangled in his entrails. Beneath the fire, that 
 became constantly more murderous as they drew nearer, 
 the survivors in the wings wheeled their horses and fell 
 back to concentrate their strength for a fresh onset. 
 
 Finally it was the fourth squadron, which, on the 
 fourth attempt, reached the Prussian lines. Prosper 
 made play with his saber, hacking away at helmets and 
 dark uniforms as well as he could distinguish them, for 
 all was dim before him, as in a dense mist. Blood flowed 
 in torrents; Zephyr's mouth was smeared with it, and 
 to account for it he said to himself that the good horse 
 must have been using his teeth on the Prussians. The 
 clamor around him became so great that he could not 
 hear his own voice, although his throat seemed splitting 
 from the yells that issued from it. But behind the first 
 Prussian line there was another, and then another, and 
 then another still. Their gallant efforts went for noth- 
 ing ; those dense masses of men were like a tangled jungle 
 that closed around the horses and riders who entered it 
 and buried them in its rank growths. They might hew 
 down those who were within reach of their sabers ; others 
 stood ready to take their places, the last squadrons 
 were lost and swallowed up in their vast numbers. The 
 firing, at point-blank range, was so furious that the 
 men's clothing was ignited. Nothing could stand before 
 it, all went down; and the work that it left unfinished 
 was completed by bayonet and musket butt. Of the 
 brave men who rode into action that day two-thirds re- 
 mained upon the battle-field, and the sole end achieved 
 by that mad charge was to add another glorious page 
 to history. And then Zephyr, struck by a musket-ball 
 
 351 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 full in the chest, dropped in a heap, crushing beneath 
 him Prosper's right thigh; and the pain was so acute 
 that the young man fainted. 
 
 Maurice and Jean, who had watched the gallant ef- 
 fort with burning interest, uttered an exclamation of 
 rage. 
 
 ^'Tonnere de Dieii! what bravery wasted!" 
 And they resumed their firing from among the trees 
 of the low hill where they were deployed in skirmishing 
 order. Rochas himself had picked up an abandoned 
 musket and was blazing away with the rest. But the 
 plateau of Illy was lost to them by this time beyond 
 hope of recovery; the Prussians were pouring in upon 
 it from every quarter. It was somewhere in the neigh- 
 borhood of two o'clock, and their great movement was 
 accomplished; the Fifth Corps and the Guards had 
 effected their junction, the investment of the French 
 army was complete. 
 
GERMAN WOUNDED IN THE GALLERY OF 
 MIRRORS, VERSAILLES 
 
THE INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST 
 FIGHT 
 
 [1877I 
 BY JAMES Mclaughlin 
 
 In the first place Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull was there — 
 which is more than can be said for some of the other 
 ladies and gentlemen who have told of the events of that 
 dreadful day when Custer led his gallant fellows into 
 the jaws of death and worse. She was not then carried 
 on the rolls of the Indian Department as Mrs. Spotted 
 Horn Bull. A more imaginative sponsor than the 
 Indian Agent had given her the more euphonious and, 
 let us hope, more correctly descriptive appellation of 
 Pte-San- Waste- Win. Twenty-eight years ago, when she 
 first came to the agency at Standing Rock, when Spotted 
 Horn Bull, who was killed with Sitting Bull, was still 
 in the land of the living Dakotas, she was a strikingly 
 good-looking Indian woman, and much esteemed by 
 her neighbors for her intelligence and capacity. She had 
 also the gift of eloquence, rare in an Indian woman, and 
 a fluency in lanugage and readiness of gesture which 
 placed her high in the esteem of her story-loving tribes- 
 men. 
 
 And many a big man among the Sioux had been con- 
 tent to hold his peace when Pte-San- Waste- Win raised 
 her voice. Not that the voice was raucous or that 
 Beautiful White Cow (the English rendition of her 
 name) was a scold. I have heard a story that she on one 
 
 353 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 occasion man-handled a big chief of the Sioux Nation 
 who she learned had maligned her, and that the man- 
 handling followed his remark: "Woman, be silent; you 
 have the mouth of a white man." And knowing Mrs. 
 Spotted Horn Bull as I do, I have never doubted the 
 verity of the incident so far as her attack was con- 
 cerned. 
 
 She is now a sturdy, upstanding woman of sixty to 
 sixty-five years of age, born of the Hunkpapa Sioux, a 
 band that has provided the nation with many of its 
 noted men. She was handsome, according to the Indian 
 canons of taste, in her youth, and indeed I am not sure 
 that the Indian taste in these matters might not well 
 be accepted by some more advanced peoples. She was 
 married in early youth to Spotted Horn Bull, a chief of 
 his band and a man of prominence as a warrior and 
 adviser, but no orator. She appears to have brought to 
 the family the attributes in which her husband was 
 lacking, for she sat in coimcil of her tribe — and I know 
 of no other Indian woman of her nation who was so sig- 
 nally honored. Her voice was always listened to, for, 
 in addition to her gift of eloquence, she was a clear 
 thinker, and could make effective the ideas of her silent 
 husband. Since she became a widow, and the Sioux no 
 longer hold councils, her neighbors seek her advice in 
 business matters. She has steadfastly refused to accept 
 Christianity, though she has listened to all the argu- 
 ments that have been made to her. She elects to cling 
 to the beliefs of her fathers — a fact that does not at all 
 detract from the esteem in which the missionaries hold 
 her. 
 
 A few months ago I met Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull by 
 
 354 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 appointment at my son Harry's trading store, located 
 at Oak Creek, on the Standing Rock Reservation. She 
 had come in fifteen miles from her home on the Missouri 
 River, near the mouth of Oak Creek, for the meeting. 
 I was accompanied by a friend, and she greeted us with 
 the effusive welcome of her people — as different as 
 possible in its warmth and volubility from the greeting 
 one not acquainted intimately with the Sioux might 
 expect. She was a striking figure as she stood up to 
 greet us. 
 
 This historian and poetess of the Sioux wore the 
 ordinary costume of a woman of her people, but her 
 gingham dress was of the Campbell plaid, her shawl- 
 blanket of native make, her moccasins, neat, her jetty 
 hair falling in two braids on each side of a smiling and 
 expressive countenance. She looked a much younger 
 woman than she really was — and by way of demon- 
 strating that she still felt young, she danced a few steps, 
 laughingly declaring that she had met and danced with 
 many prominent people. It was after a substantial 
 supper, to which Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull did full justice, 
 that we sat down in my son's Uttle parlor and listened 
 to her story of the affair on the Little Big Horn. 
 
 I have always deplored the fact that English writers 
 have never been able to render in their native elegance 
 and appositeness the similes used by Indian orators and 
 story-tellers. I now deplore the lack of that same ca- 
 pacity in myself. Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull exhausted 
 the stores of her flowery vocabulary in the relation we 
 listened to. She talked with great fluency, her voice 
 pitched to a sort of breathless stage of excited feeling. 
 I remember hearing a young woman declaim the Chorus 
 
 355 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 in "Henry V," put on by an American actor-manager 
 a few years ago; the Sioux story-teller reminded me of 
 the actress. She illustrated her every sentence in panto- 
 mime, and when she feared that she had not pictured 
 the scene her memory brought up, she seized a pencil 
 and paper and drew a sketch of the valley of the Little 
 Big Horn, showing the location of the Indian village on 
 the west bank, the distribution of the bands of the 
 Sioux, the points of attack by Custer and Reno, and the 
 fatal hill, now marked by a monument, where Custer 
 fell. This sketch she used constantly to explain her 
 meaning, and she was perfectly frank about the occur- 
 rences of June 25, 1876, except on one point. She ignored 
 all questions as to the whereabouts of Sitting Bull during 
 the fight. Skillfully avoiding the interrogation, or totally 
 ignoring it, she made many excursions into Sioux his- 
 tory of that time; but Sitting Bull, her kinsman, who 
 skulked in the hills while his people were carrying out 
 the annihilation of the troops, she would not speak of. 
 Once, exasperated by the questions of the third party 
 to the hearing, she asked if he was a lawyer, and, being 
 assured that he was not, she shook hands with him very 
 solemnly and continued her relation. And this is the 
 tale she told : — 
 
 "My brother. White Eyebrows, had been to a dance. 
 All through the night he had been making glad the 
 hearts of the maidens, for my brother was good to look 
 upon and the women of the Hunkpapa know a good 
 man. All the night he had danced with the other young 
 people. It was not a war dance, but just a merrymaking 
 of the younger people. A few days previous, our men 
 had fought with the Crows and Shoshones [General 
 
 356 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 Crook's allies] and the enemies of my people had fallen 
 as leaves when they turn yellow. We were not harmed, 
 and there was no mourning in the village of the Sioux 
 on the plateau beside the Greasy Grass, the river that 
 the white men call the Little Big Horn. When my 
 brother came to my tepee from the dance, I still slept. 
 Late the night before I and the other women of the 
 Hunkpapa had labored to make ready for the march 
 that we were to take up that morning. Where we were 
 going, I know not. Where the men of the Sioux go, 
 there go the women; it is their duty and their pleasure. 
 Our people were roaming through the country that had 
 been given them before the coming of the whites. The 
 country was good; there was rich grass for the ponies, 
 and sweet water; the fields glowed with prairie flowers 
 of yellow and red and blue; there were buffaloes in the 
 valleys and Indian turnips on the hills for the digging. 
 We were rich in provisions, and no man had a right to 
 put out his hand and tell us that we should not roam. 
 The village by the Greasy Grass was but the stopping- 
 place for a day or two, and we had no thought of a fight 
 with the white man. The Crows and Shoshones we had 
 no fears of, for the lodges of the Sioux were many and 
 their men brave as the lion of the mountains. But we 
 were to move out to the northwest, and I had made 
 many bundles of my store. Thus it was that I lay sleep- 
 ing when my brother came to the tepee in the dawn and 
 asked for food. 
 
 "I unpacked some of the bundles and prepared his 
 breakfast, buffalo meat stewed with turnips, and set it 
 before him; and as he ate, the people of the village awak- 
 ened and the sun rose higher. I have said that our lodges 
 
 '357 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 were many, but how many people there were, I know 
 not. [There were about ten thousand Indians, including 
 women and children, in the village.] But the women 
 were all at work, and the ponies were being rounded 
 up and preparations for leaving went on, that we might 
 be away before the heat of the day became great, as it 
 sometimes is in the country of my people and in the val- 
 leys near the big hills. 
 
 "The village was made along the Greasy Grass and 
 between that river and the Big Horn, which flows north 
 to the Yellowstone. The Blackfeet, who were not many, 
 had the place at the south end of the village; next to the 
 Blackfeet and closer to the river were my people, the 
 Hunkpapa; down the river and next to the Hunkpapa 
 were the Minniconjou; and below them the Sans Arc. 
 Behind the Hunkpapa, away from the river, where the 
 Ogallala and the Brule; and below the Minniconjou to 
 the north were the Cheyennes. Up the river from the 
 village of the Blackfeet there was thick timber, and 
 through this we could not see. 
 
 "I have seen my people prepare for battle many 
 times, and this I know: that the Sioux that morning had 
 no thought of fighting. We expected no attack, and our 
 young men did not watch for the coming of Long Hair 
 [Custer] and his soldiers. 
 
 " Most of the women were occupied in packing their 
 stores preparatory to breaking camp, and some of them 
 were working along the bank of the river. On the east 
 side of the river an old man had shot a buffalo that 
 morning, and near where the buffalo lay dead some 
 women and children were digging Indian turnips. These 
 people first saw the soldiers, who then were far to the 
 
 358 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 east. They were on the little hills between the Greasy 
 Grass and the Rosebud Rivers. They were six to eight 
 miles distant when first seen, and some of the younger 
 people hurried in from the place where the buffalo was 
 killed to notify the camp. We could see the flashing of 
 their sabers and saw that there were very many soldiers 
 in the party. My people went on with their work, mak- 
 ing ready to move across the Big Horn, but the tepees 
 were not yet down. The men of the Sioux were much 
 excited, and they watched the coming of Long Hair and 
 hurried the women. The village was not made for a 
 fight and they would move on. We had seen the soldiers 
 marching along the high ridge on the east side of the 
 river and were watching them, but had not seen these 
 others approaching." 
 
 Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull halted in her story, and 
 thought for a few moments. Then she struck her hands 
 sharply together to imitate the rattling of carbine fire 
 and continued: — 
 
 "Like that the soldiers were upon us. Through the 
 tepee poles their bullets rattled. The sun was several 
 hours high and the tepees were empty. Bullets coming 
 from a strip of timber on the west bank of the Greasy 
 Grass passed through the tepees of the Blackfeet and 
 Hunkpapa. The broken character of the country across 
 the river, together with the fringe of trees on the west 
 side, where our camp was situated, had hidden the ad- 
 vance of a great number of soldiers, which we had not 
 seen until they were close upon us and shooting into 
 our end of the village, where, from seeing the direction 
 taken by the soldiers we were watching, we felt com- 
 paratively secure. 
 
 359 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 "The women and children cried, fearing they would 
 be killed, but the men, the Hunkpapa and Blackfeet, 
 the Ogalala and Minniconjou, mounted their horses 
 and raced to the Blackfeet tepees. We could still see 
 the soldiers of Long Hair marching along in the dis- 
 tance, and our men, taken by surprise, and from a point 
 whence they had not expected to be attacked, went sing- 
 ing the song of battle into the fight behind the Blackfeet 
 village. And we women wailed over the children, for we 
 believed that the Great Father had sent all his men for 
 the destruction of the Sioux. Some of the women put 
 loads on the travois and would have left, but that their 
 husbands and sons were in the fight. Others tore their 
 hair and wept for the fate that they thought was to be 
 the portion of the Sioux, through the anger of the Great 
 Father, but the men were not afraid, and they had 
 many guns and cartridges. Like the fire that, driven 
 by a great wind, sweeps through the heavy grass-land 
 where the buffalo range, the men of the Hunkpapa, the 
 Blackfeet, the Ogallala, and the Minniconjou rushed 
 through the village and into the trees, where the sol- 
 diers of the white chief had stopped to fire. The sol- 
 diers [Reno's] had been sent by Long Hair to surprise 
 the village of my people. Silently had they moved off 
 around the hills, and keeping out of sight of the young 
 men of our people, had crept in, south of what men now 
 call Reno Hill; they had crossed the Greasy Grass and 
 climbed the bench from the bank. The way from the 
 river to the plateau upon which our tepees stood was 
 level, but the soldiers were on foot when they came in 
 sight of the Blackfeet. Then it was that they fired and 
 warned us of their approach." 
 
 360 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull stopped an instant, and then 
 said: — 
 
 "If the soldiers had not fired until all of them were 
 ready for the attack; if they had brought their horses 
 and rode into the camp of the Sioux, the power of the 
 Dakota nation might have been broken, and our young 
 men killed in the surprise, for they were watching Long 
 Hair only and had no thought of an attack anywhere 
 while they could see his soldiers traveling along parallel 
 with the river on the opposite side, and more than a 
 rifle-shot back from the river. Long Hair had planned 
 cunningly that Reno should attack in the rear while he 
 rode down and gave battle from the front of the village 
 looking on the river. But the Great Spirit was watching 
 over his red children. He allowed the white chief [Reno] 
 to strike too soon, and the braves of the Sioux ran over 
 his soldiers and beat them down as corn before the hail. 
 They fought a few minutes, and the men of the Hunk- 
 papa, the Blackfeet, Ogallala, and the Minniconjou 
 bore them down and slew many of them — all who did 
 not get across the river were killed. And Long Hair was 
 still three miles away when nearly all of the blue coats 
 that came to kill the Sioux, at our end of the village, 
 were dead; only those escaped who were mounted on 
 horses and got across the river. Those who crossed the 
 river got on a high hill to the east, where our young men 
 did not attack them further until after Custer and his 
 men were killed. Twoscore of the bluecoats lay dead 
 on the field, and our people took their guns and many 
 cartridges, and the mourning was in the houses afar off 
 where the women of the white braves waited to hear of 
 the victory they expected their young men to win. 
 
 361 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 "The shadow of the sun had not moved the width of 
 a tepee pole's length from the beginning to the ending 
 of the first fight; and while it was going on, the old man 
 who had shot the buffalo east of the river, and some of 
 the women and children who had been digging Indian 
 turnips, and were cut off by the approach of Reno's 
 men, came to the camp. They had seen the soldiers of 
 Long Hair, and had heard the firing of Reno's men, 
 and had secreted themselves in the timber along the 
 river until the guns no longer spoke. 
 
 "Down the Greasy Grass River, three or four miles 
 from where Reno's men had crossed the river, and over 
 across from the camps of the Cheyennes and the Sans 
 Arc, there is an easy crossing of the Greasy Grass. The 
 crossing is near a butte, and around the butte there 
 runs a deep ravine. From Long Hair's movements the 
 Sioux warriors knev\r that he had planned to strike the 
 camp of my people from the lower end as Reno struck 
 it from the upper end. Even the women, who knew 
 nothing of warfare, saw that Reno had struck too early, 
 and the warriors who were generals in planning, even 
 as Long Hair was, knew that the white chief would at- 
 tempt to carry out his plan of the attack, believing that 
 Reno had beaten our young men. There was wild dis- 
 order in our camp, the old women and children shrieked 
 and got in the way of the warriors, and the women were 
 ordered back out of the village, so that they might not 
 be in the way of our soldiers. And our men went singing 
 down the river, confident that the enemy would be de- 
 feated, even as we believed that all of Reno's men had 
 been killed. And I wept with the women for the brave 
 dead and exulted that our braves should gain a great 
 
 362 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 victory over the whites led by Long Hair, who was the 
 greatest of their chiefs, and whose soldiers could then 
 be plainly seen across the river. From a hill behind the 
 camp, at first, and then from the bank of the river, I 
 watched the men of our people plan to overthrow the 
 soldiers of the Great Father; and before a shot was fired, 
 I knew that no man v/ho rode with Long Hair would go 
 back to tell the tale of the fight that would begin when 
 the soldiers approached the river at the lower end of the 
 village." 
 
 The story-teller paused and was then asked the ques- 
 tion: "Where was Sitting Bull during the fight?" She 
 went on as though she had not heard the question. 
 
 "From across the river I could hear the music of the 
 bugle and could see the column of soldiers turn to the 
 left, to march down to the river to where the attack was 
 to be made. All I could see was the warriors of my peo- 
 ple. They rushed like the wind through the village, 
 going down the ravine as the women went out to the 
 grazing-ground to round up the ponies. It was done very 
 quickly. There had been no council the night before — 
 there was no need for one; nor had there been a scalp- 
 dance : nothing but the merr3rmaking of the young men 
 and the maidens. When we did not know there was to 
 be a fight, we could not be prepared for it. And our 
 camp was not pitched anticipating a battle. The war- 
 riors would not have picked out such a place for a fight 
 with white men, open to attack from both ends and from 
 the west side. No; what was done that day was done 
 while the sun stood still and the white men were de- 
 livered into the hands of the Sioux. But no plan was 
 necessary. 
 
 •363 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 "Our chiefs and the young men rode quickly down to 
 the end of the village, opposite to the hill upon which 
 there now stands the great stone put up by the whites 
 where Long Hair fell. Betvv^een that hill and the sol- 
 diers was a ravine which started from the river opposite 
 the camp of the Sans Arc, and ran all the way across the 
 butte. To get to the butte Long Hair must cross the 
 ravine; but from where he was marching vfith his sol- 
 diers, he could not see into the ravine nor down to the 
 banks of the river. The warriors of my people, of all 
 the bands, the Sans Arc, the Cheyenne, the Brule, the 
 Minniconjou, the Ogallala, the Blackf eet, all had joined 
 with the Hunkpapa on our side of the Greasy Grass 
 and opposite the opening into the ra\'ine. Soon I saw 
 a number of Cheyennes ride into the river, then some 
 young men of my band, then others, until there were 
 hundreds of warriors in the river and running up into 
 the ra\'ine. When some hundreds had passed the river 
 and gone into the ravine, the others who were left, still 
 a very great number, moved back from the river and 
 waited for the attack. And I knew that the fighting 
 men of the Sioux, many hundreds in number, were 
 hidden in the ravine behind the hill upon which Long 
 Hair was marching, and he would be attacked from 
 both sides. And my heart was sad for the soldiers of 
 Long Hair, though they sought the lives of our men; but 
 I was a woman of the Sioux, and my husband, my 
 uncles, and cousins, and brothers, all taking part in the 
 battle, were men who could fight and plan, and I was 
 satisfied. 
 
 " Pizi [Gall] and many of his young men had recrossed 
 the Greasy Grass River after the white men had been 
 
 364 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 driven off or killed in the earlier engagement at the 
 upper end of the village, where he with some of our war- 
 riors had been shooting at the soldiers, who were chased 
 to the hill, and the soldiers had been shooting at them, 
 but could not hit the Sioux. WTien Pizi [Gall] recrossed 
 the river many women followed his party, and we heard 
 him tell his men to frighten the horses of the soldiers, 
 which were held in small bunches. With shoutings that 
 we could hear across the river, the young men stam- 
 peded the horses and the women captured them and 
 brought them to the village. The Indians fought the 
 soldiers with bullets taken from the first party that at- 
 tacked their village, and many rode the horses captured 
 from the white men, who had fled to the hill. To the 
 northwest a great many women and children were driv- 
 ing in the ponies of the Sioux, but I remained with 
 many other women along the bank of Greasy Grass 
 River. I saw Crazy Horse lead the Cheyennes into the 
 water and up the ravine; Crow King and the Hunkpapa 
 went after them; and then Gall, who had led his young 
 men and killed the soldiers he had been fighting farther 
 up the river, rode along the beach by the river to where 
 Long Hair had stopped with his men. 
 
 "I cannot remember the time. When men fight and 
 the air is filled with bullets, when the screaming of 
 horses that are shot drowns the war-whoop of the war- 
 riors, a woman whose husband and brothers are in the 
 battle does not think of the time. But the sun was no 
 longer overhead when the war-whoop of the Sioux 
 sounded from the river-bottom and the ravine sur- 
 rounding the hill at the end of the ridge where Long 
 Hair had taken his last stand. The river was in sight 
 
 365 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 from the butte, and while the whoop still rung in our 
 ears and the women were shrieking, two Cheyennes tried 
 to cross the river and one of them was shot and killed by 
 Long Hair's men. Then the men of the Sioux Nation, 
 led by Crow King, Hump, Crazy Horse, and many great 
 chiefs, rose up on all sides of the hill, and the last we 
 could see from our side of the river was a great number 
 of gray horses. The smoke of the shooting and the dust 
 of the horses shut out the hill, and the soldiers fired 
 many shots, but the Sioux shot straight and the soldiers 
 fell dead. The women crossed the river after the men 
 of our village, and when we came to the hill there were 
 no soldiers living and Long Hair lay dead among the 
 rest. There were more than two hundred dead soldiers 
 on the hill, and the boys of the village shot many who 
 were already dead, for the blood of the people was hot 
 and their hearts bad, and they took no prisoners that 
 day." 
 
 The woman sat playing with the edge of her blanket. 
 Of the dreadful things that took place on the hill after 
 the command of the unfortunate Custer had been an- 
 nihilated, she would, of course, say nothing. The women 
 of her nation finished the work of the warriors on that 
 awful field. 
 
 I asked her if there was any more fighting. 
 
 "Not much. The men on the hill [Reno's] were safe 
 to stay there until they wanted water. Gall kept his 
 men along the river. Some of the soldiers were shot as 
 they tried to reach the water. There was some fighting, 
 too, but none of our young men were killed. 
 
 "That night the Sioux, men, women, and children, 
 lighted many fires and danced; their hearts were glad, 
 
 366 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 for the Great Spirit had given them a great victory. 
 All along the valley of the Greasy Grass, fires were 
 lighted, and the women laughed as they labored hard to 
 bring m the fuel; for in the darkness they could see the 
 gleam of the flames on the arms of the soldiers fastened 
 in a trap on Reno Hill. The people had taken many 
 guns, cartridges, horses, and much clothing from the 
 soldiers, and they rejoiced, while the fires lit up the 
 field on the hill across the river, where the naked bodies 
 of the soldiers lay. We had much money, but did not 
 know at the time what its real value was, and a lot of 
 green-paper money was kept in my tepee for some time 
 before being disposed of. All night the people danced 
 and sang their songs of victory, and they were strong 
 in their might and would have attacked the soldiers who 
 lay through the night on what you call Reno Hill, but 
 Gall and Crow King and Crazy Horse would waste no 
 lives of the Sioux braves. They said: 'We will shoot at 
 them occasionally, but not charge. They will fall into 
 our hands when the thirst burns in their throats and 
 makes them mad for drink.' 
 
 "This was the counsel of the chiefs, and the young 
 men saw that it was good; so while many feasted, a few 
 held the hill and the soldiers did not know it, for, of 
 those who stole to the river to drink, none went back 
 ahve. There was fighting the next day, but the Sioux 
 knew early in the day that many soldiers were coming 
 up from the north, and preparations were made to leave 
 for new hunting-grounds. And while our hearts were 
 singing for the victory our braves had won, there were 
 wailing women in the village, for they had their dead. 
 Since the Sioux first fought the men who are our friends 
 
 367 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 now, they had not won so great a battle and at so little 
 cost. Twenty-two dead were counted, and the price was 
 not great; but what wife, or mother, or sister gives 
 thought to victory when she finds her dead on the field? 
 So it was that in the midst of the rejoicing, there was 
 sorrowing among the women, who would not be com- 
 forted in knowing that their dead had gone to join the 
 ghosts of the brave. The dead we took with us, laid on 
 travois, and carried for many days, for among the white 
 men were Crow and Shoshone scouts, who would dese- 
 crate our dead, and we would have no Sioux scalps 
 dangling at their tepee-poles. 
 
 "So we went out from Greasy Grass River, and left 
 Long Hair and his dead to their friends. The people 
 scattered and the pursuit did not harm us. But I still 
 remember the bitterness of the suffering of the Sioux 
 that winter, after we had met and talked with Bear 
 Coat [General Miles] on the Yellowstone, when we were 
 on our way north into the land of the Red Coats, where 
 we remained five winters, and were frequently very 
 destitute, while we remained there. 
 
 " So it was that the Sioux defeated Long Hair and his 
 soldiers in the valley of the Greasy Grass River, which 
 my people remember with regret, but without shame. 
 We are now living happily and in friendship with the 
 whites, knowing that their hearts are good toward us. 
 The great chiefs who led that fight are dead: Gall, 
 Crow King, Crazy Horse, Big Road, and the other head 
 men are dead and gone to the land of ghosts, but their 
 deeds live, and we of the Sioux nation keep them in our 
 memories, even as we keep in remembrance Long Hair 
 and his men, whose bravery in battle makes the bravery 
 
 3^8 
 
INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 
 
 of their conquerors a thing that cannot be buried in the 
 grave nor forgotten, because their ghosts are at peace." 
 And Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull put the corner of her 
 shawl to her face and wiped away a tear, forced perhaps 
 by the thought that the husband of her youth, whom she 
 has not forgotten, — though she has had many offers 
 from chief men of her people, — was with the ghosts of 
 those others who fought with and against him on that 
 June day, thirty-three years ago, in the valley of the 
 Little Big Horn. 
 
A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 
 
 [About 1S98] 
 BY JULIAN RALPH 
 
 The pictures of our battles which are produced in illus- 
 trated papers are not at all like real scenes at the front. 
 
 Art cannot keep pace with the quick advances of 
 science, and illustrators find that for effect they must 
 still put as much smoke and confusion in their battle 
 studies as went with the old pictures of Waterloo. If 
 this were left out, the pubhc would be disappointed, and 
 unable to tell a battlefield from a parade. 
 
 Lately a picture in one of our leading papers, by a 
 very capable artist, showed the British storming a Boer 
 position. In the middle distance was a Boer battery, and 
 the only gunner left alive was standing up with a band- 
 age round his head, while smoke and flame and flying 
 fragments of shells filled the air in his vicinity. In the 
 rush of the instant he must have been bandaged by the 
 same shot that struck him, and as for the smoke and 
 flying debris, there was more of this in a corner of that 
 picture than was to be seen in all the four battles we 
 have fought ! 
 
 What, then, is a modern battle — how does it look and 
 sound? 
 
 Really, the field of operations is so extensive, and the 
 range of modern guns is so great, that fighting condi- 
 tions have altered, until there is no longer any general 
 "noise of battle hurtled in the air," no possibility of 
 
 370 
 
A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 
 
 grasping or viewing an engagement from any single 
 point. 
 
 You may hear one of our big guns loosed three miles 
 over on the right and another two miles on the left. If 
 you are near they make a tremendous noise, yet I have 
 not heard any explosion so loud as a good strong clap of 
 thunder. The guns of the enemy cough far in front of 
 you, and their shells burst within your lines with a 
 louder sound — but with no real crash or deafening roar. 
 
 Our guns at their muzzles create but little smoke, 
 though our Lyddite shells throw up clouds of dust and 
 smoke where they fall miles away. Because the Boers 
 are using old-fashioned powder in their cannon there is 
 a small white cloud wherever one is fired, and a spurt of 
 red sand where their shells dig into the veldt. The smoke 
 of war, therefore, and the so-called roar of battle are 
 nowadays occasional, scattered, inconsiderable. 
 
 Rifle-firing has been the principal feature of our fights. 
 It sounds hke the frying of fat, or like the crackling 
 and snapping of green wood in a bonfire. If you are 
 within two miles of the front, you are apt to be under 
 fire, and then you hear the music of individual bullets. 
 Their song is like the magnified note of a mosquito. 
 "Z — 2—3 — 3 — 3" — they go over your head; "z — 3 — 
 3 — 3 — />" — they finish as they bury themselves in the 
 ground. This is a sound only to be heard when the bul- 
 lets fly very close. You pick up your heels and run a 
 hundred, or even fifty, yards, and you hear nothing 
 but the general crackle of rifle-fire in and before the 
 trenches. 
 
 The "putt-putt," or Vickers-Nordenfeldt gun, is able 
 to interest you at a distance of three miles. Its explo- 
 
 371 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 sions are best described by the nickname given to the 
 gun by one regiment: "The blooming door-knocker." 
 Its bullets or shells are as big as the bowl of a large brier- 
 root pipe, and they tear and slit the air with a terrible 
 sound, exploding when they strike. The firing of this 
 gun was heard all over the largest of our battlefields, and 
 the sound of exploding shells carried far, because they 
 were apt to fall on the quiet, outer edge of the field. The 
 whizz that even these missiles make in flying, however, 
 is like the whispered answers of a maid in love, only to 
 be heard by the favored individual who is especially 
 addressed. 
 
 Thus the many separate sounds are not loud enough 
 to blend. The crowning, all-pervading noises are those 
 of the guns and of the rifle-fire, and on the vast veldt, 
 spread over a double line of five to seven miles in length, 
 only those that are very near are very loud. 
 
 The scene of battle — the general view — is exceed- 
 ingly orderly. There may be a desperate scrimmage 
 where a company or two are storming a Kopje, but level 
 your glass on yonder hill, and what do you see — a 
 fringe of tiny jets of fire from the top where the Boers 
 are, and our men in Khaki rising, and reclining, and 
 occasionally firing, as they win their way upward. 
 
 The general view displays an arrangement as methodi- 
 cal as a chessboard. There are several battalions flat on 
 their faces in two or three long fines. Over here is a bat- 
 tery in perfect order, with its limber of horses at rest 
 near by. Another battery, equally well arranged, as if 
 to have its photograph taken, is to be seen in the middle 
 field; a third is on the farther side. The cavalry is 
 sweeping across the veldt in perfect rank and alignment. 
 
 372 
 
A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 
 
 There is no confusion anywhere — nothing is helter- 
 skelter or slap-dash. 
 
 I remember only two momentary disturbances of this 
 stern, steady discipline. One was in the afternoon, dur- 
 ing the Modder River fight, when a large band of 
 mounted Boers made a flank movement on our extreme 
 right, and fired a volley at our immense mass of trans- 
 port and ambulance wagons, water-carts, and ammuni- 
 tion trains. 
 
 The drivers were taken by surprise, and fell to lashing 
 their mule teams and horses, generally to the accom- 
 paniment of high-keyed Kafir yells. The rout lasted but 
 five minutes or less, and was comical beyond descrip- 
 tion, because the leading mules climbed over the wheel- 
 ers, and the faster the bullets fell the louder the Kafirs 
 yelled, and the more they pKed their enormous whips. 
 
 The bravery of our stretcher-bearers is as much be- 
 yond question as it is beyond praise. All historians who 
 tell of the dash and valor of the generals, colonels, ma- 
 jors, captains, and "Tommies" of the army, in common 
 justice must also describe how the chaplains, doctors, 
 and stretcher-bearers went in and out of the most hellish 
 fire, not once or twice, but all through every battle. 
 
 It is just outside the range of fire that you see and 
 realize the horrors of war. It is there that the wounded 
 crawl and stagger by you; it is there that they spend 
 their final output of energy, and fall down to lie until 
 assistance comes; it is there that you see stretchers laden 
 with their mangled freight, and sound soldiers bearing 
 the wounded on their backs and in their arms. 
 
 More certainly to know the brutality and woe of war, 
 happen upon a kopje that has just been stormed, or a 
 
 373 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 trench that has been carried. Go to such a place to-day, 
 twenty centuries after Christ came with his message of 
 peace on earth and good will to men, and behold what 
 you shall see. 
 
 "Here," said I to a photographer in such a place — I 
 think it was Belmont — "snap this scene. Look at the 
 wounded all over the ground. Quick! out with your 
 camera." 
 
 "Oh, I can't," said he; "it's too horrible!" 
 
 "As you please," I said. "But it's what the public 
 wants." 
 
 You read, in the writings of those who know nothing 
 of war, about the writhing of the wounded, and the 
 groaning on the battlefield. There is no writhing, and the 
 groans are few and faint. There was one man who was 
 simply cut to pieces by a shell at Maaghersfontein, and 
 his sufferings must have been awful. He kept crying, 
 "Doctor, can't you do anything?" Another begged to 
 be killed, and the first wounded man I saw kept saying, 
 poor fellow, in ever so low a voice, "Oh, dear, dear, dear! 
 Oh, dear, dear, dear!" But there is much less groaning 
 than you would imagine — very Httle in proportion to 
 the sufferings. 
 
 Two things are so common with the wounded as to be 
 almost like rules of behavior. They all beg for water (it 
 used to be cigarettes that they asked for on the Turkish 
 side in the last war in Europe), and they seem always 
 to be made gentle by their wounds. Men of the rough- 
 est speech, profane by second nature, cease to offend 
 when stricken down. 
 
 "Well, mate," said one, whose leg was shattered, "you 
 never know when your turn will come, do you?" 
 
 374 
 
A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 
 
 And another simply cried, "Oh, dear!" 
 
 Now and then you heard, "For God's sake, get me 
 taken to an ambulance!" — but no profanity was in- 
 tended there. 
 
 Many may wonder how it feels to be wounded. All 
 who had bones shattered by expanding bullets used 
 nearly the same language to describe the sensation. 
 
 *' You feel," they said, "exactly as if you had received 
 a powerful shock from an electric battery, and then 
 comes a blow as if your foot" (or arm, or whatever part 
 it might be) "was crushed by a stroke with a tremen- 
 dous mallet." It is much the same in a lesser degree if a 
 bone is struck by a Mauser bullet; but if the smooth, 
 slender, clean Kttle shot merely pierces the flesh, a burn- 
 ing or stinging sensation is the instantaneous result. 
 
 "Lying six hours in the broiling sun was pretty bad," 
 said one whose arm-bone was smashed; "but the really 
 awful experience was the jolting over rocks when I was 
 carried off in an ambulance." 
 
 Another man, an officer, whose foot was smashed by 
 an explosive bullet, said, "Look at my pipe. That's 
 what I did to keep from saying anything." He had 
 bitten off an inch of the hardened rubber mouthpiece. 
 That was before his wound was dressed. The relief that 
 is given by the dressing of a wound must be exquisite, 
 for you hear next to no groans or moans after a doctor 
 has given this first attention. 
 
 In the army of Lord Methuen the great majority of 
 wounds were in the arms and feet; but other points and 
 experiences in war are more remarkable. The chances 
 of receiving a wound seem not to have greatly increased 
 with the improvements in modern death-dealing im- 
 
 375 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 plements. There were more than a million shots fired at 
 Modder River, and yet only about eight hundred men 
 were hit; while the number of bullets that hit water- 
 bottles, haversacks, ration-tins, and coat-sleeves was 
 astonishing. The damage to life and limb by the exces- 
 sive artillery fire was next to nothing. 
 
 On a typical field of battle the armies oppose one an- 
 other with orderly masses. Staff officers ride hither and 
 thither. Batteries rumble to and fro at long intervals, 
 as they are ordered to take new positions, and in the 
 same way the cavalry appear and reappear on the edges 
 of the field. Stretcher-bearers bring the wounded out of 
 the zone of danger, and ambulances roll up, get their 
 loads, and roll away again, all day continually as in a 
 ceaseless train. 
 
 Brave privates bring out the wounded, and work their 
 way back into fire again, now running forward, now 
 dropping flat upon the veldt. Skulkers work back to the 
 edge of the field in the same way — a few only — and 
 are gathered up and sent forward in batches by the offi- 
 cers who come upon them. At last the cheer of British 
 victory is heard, and the whole force rushes forward, 
 or darkness falls upon an unfinished fight, and we grope 
 about the veldt, seeking our camps, and the food and 
 drink that most of us have gone without too long. 
 
FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 
 
 BY GUSTAV FRENSSEN 
 
 [This story is from a book supposed to be written by a sol- 
 dier of the German army in Southwest Africa, telling of his 
 experiences in the campaign against the natives in 1903-04. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 Before midnight we advanced toward the enemy. It 
 was said that our division would come upon them about 
 morning. The Witt-boys rode on ahead as spies. Then 
 came our company. One part was detached to ride at 
 the side of the road in the bush; the other part was to 
 keep on riding in the road. I was in the third platoon. 
 Behind me in compact array came the artillery. We 
 marched as quietly as possible, but still there were all 
 sorts of noises: snorting of horses, jolting of wheels, an 
 impatient, angry shout, or a blow with a whip. I was 
 very cold in the saddle, and, in order not to have stiff 
 fingers later, when I had to shoot, I laid the reins over 
 my cartridge-belt and put my hands in my pockets. 
 
 At last morning broke, and delicate, rosy stripes of 
 light soon shot up toward the zenith. The colors grew 
 rapidly deeper, brighter, and stronger. The red was glo- 
 rious in its fullness and the blue beautiful in its purity. 
 The light mounted and extended itself, ascending like a 
 new world a thousand times more beautiful than the old 
 one. Then came the sun, big and clear, looking like a 
 great, placid, w^ide-open eye. Although like a good sol- 
 dier I had all my thoughts fixed on what was before me, 
 on the enemy, and the bad hours I should probably 
 meet with, yet I saw the splendor of the sky. 
 
 Near me rode a fellow from Hamburg, a fresh, quiet 
 
 377 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 boy. He said once to me: "You see, one has to have ex- 
 perienced something, or how shall one become a serious, 
 capable man? That's why I came here." He was to 
 enter his father's business later. He was riding just as I 
 was, his reins over his cartridge-belt and his hands in his 
 pockets; he was frowning this morning, and kept a sharp 
 lookout before him. Diagonally behind me rode the 
 former officer. 
 
 About this time of day. according to the predictions 
 of our scouts, we ought to reach the enemy, but they 
 were not to be seen. Then I thought, as did many others, 
 that again there would be no fighting, and I was annoyed. 
 Shortly after this, however, we heard the thunder of 
 cannon coming from our right. 
 
 It got to be eight o'clock, and nine. The bush was so 
 dense that the parties sent into it could not advance. 
 They came out and marched together along the road. 
 The sun was steadily mounting; it was getting to be a 
 hot day. It began to be warm riding, and the horses 
 Vv'ere growing tired. A Httle thin lieutenant with a drawn 
 face and sharp eyes rode up alongside of me and said, in 
 a suppressed voice: "We are n't a mile and a half from 
 the water-holes." Several times in the last few days he 
 had made dangerous excursions into this region, and he 
 knew every bush. 
 
 Then the first shot fell ahead. With a quick swing we 
 were out of our saddles and had thrown the reins over 
 our horses' necks. Those who were to hold the horses 
 seized them. Our company was only ninety strong, and, 
 as we left ten with the horses, only eighty men went into 
 the thick bush. The enemy were firing vigorously and 
 letting out short, wild cries. I saw one of our men 
 
 378 
 
FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 
 
 wounded. He stooped and examined a wound in his leg. 
 Still, I saw nothing of the enemy. Then just for a second 
 I saw a piece of an arm in a grayish brown cord coat, 
 and I shot at it. Then I lay down to spy out another 
 target. Lively firing was being exchanged. When one 
 of us thought he had hit his mark, he would announce it 
 with a loud voice: "That one won't get up again! I got 
 him in the middle of the breast!" The third man at my 
 right, who was lying by a bush in front of me, twitched 
 convulsively. A derisive voice on the other side shouted: 
 "Had enough, Dutchman?" My comrade said, in a 
 quiet voice: "I have a bullet in my shoulder," and he 
 crawled back on all fours. 
 
 I could hear through all our own shooting that we 
 were getting fired upon from the left. This fire now be- 
 came heavier. They were coming nearer. In close ranks 
 they came, creeping and shouting and screaming. Two 
 of my neighbors were not shouting any more. We 
 crawled back once or twice our length. The enemy 
 shouted: "Look out, Dutchman, look out!" and laughed 
 wildly. Others shouted: "Hurrah! hurrah!" The bush 
 was swarming with men. I thought they would now 
 break loose upon us in a wild storm and that it would be 
 all up with us. On account of our wounded men I was 
 fearfully anxious lest we should have to retreat. I was 
 firmly resolved if the command should come, to shout 
 loudly: "Take along the wounded!" But when I had 
 just decided on this plan, a subordinate officer came up 
 with several men and cheered us on with the words, 
 "Hold your position! I am sending aid!" Soon after- 
 wards I heard something slipping and grating behind me, 
 and a quiet, soft voice said: "Move a little to the side." 
 
 379 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 The nozzle of a machine gun was pushed forward near 
 my face, and immediately began to crackle away. The 
 grape shot hissed furiously into the bushes, rattling and 
 whizzing. How good it sounded! How surely and 
 quietly I shot ! "Did I hit? Did you see? Shoot, man, 
 there ! there ! " Cannon, too, upon a slope behind us were 
 now thundering over our heads. Then it grew a little 
 more quiet on the other side, and the command of "For- 
 ward, double quick!" reached us. We sprang up and 
 plunged forward, but a horrible volley of grape shot was 
 poured against us and threw us back again. 
 
 In front of m.e an under ofl&cer had got a ball in the 
 body, and blood was streaming from the wound. He was 
 crouching and trying to stem the flow of blood with a 
 handkerchief, and was calling for help. He was a light- 
 complexioned, fine-looking man. Just then the former 
 ofiicer, the one who was under the ofncial ban, came 
 up from the side, seized the wounded man by the shoul- 
 ders, and dragged him back, while balls were falling 
 around him and the barrel of his gun was hit so that 
 it flew rattling to one side. He then quietly lay down 
 in his place again. On the other side, in the bush, they 
 were shouting in wild zeal and shrieking for very 
 rage. 
 
 We did not advance. I don't know how long we lay 
 there firing. It was probably hours. I wondered once 
 why no officer was to be seen with us, and I forgot it 
 again. Sweat ran like water over my entire body. Not 
 merely my tongue, but my throat, my whole body, cried 
 out for a swallow of cool water. At one side a hospital 
 aid was trying to bind a rubber bandage around the 
 bleeding leg of a wounded man who begged him in South 
 
 380 
 
FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 
 
 German dialect : "Take me back a little, can you? " Then 
 the aid dragged him back panting. 
 
 The fire from the other side was getting weaker. A 
 voice commanded us: "Fire more slowly." From the 
 other side we heard it jeeringly mimicked: "Fire more 
 slowly." A wounded man cried aloud for water. 
 
 We lay and waited, our guns pointed. Word passed 
 from mouth to mouth: "The captain is dead; the first 
 lieutenant, too — all the ofiicers — and almost all the 
 under officers." Propping my gun in position, I took my 
 field flask with my left hand and swallowed the little 
 draught I had saved up for the greatest emergency. As 
 I set the flask aside, I thought that perhaps it would be 
 my last drink, and I thought of my parents. I believed 
 that the enemy would get breath and then make an- 
 other assault. 
 
 But that did not happen. A lieutenant who belonged 
 to the staff came stooping along our ranks. When he was 
 behind me, he knelt there, touched my boot lightly, and 
 said: "Go to the general and report that according to 
 my reckoning we are about half a mile distant from the 
 last water-holes." 
 
 I got cautiously up on my knees, and then ducking 
 down ran back to the road. Near an ant-hill, which was 
 certainly three yards high, a surgeon and a hospital aid 
 were endeavoring to save a man from bleeding to death ; 
 but I believe they came too late, for he lay Hke dead on 
 his dark red blanket. Then I saw the balloon not far in 
 front of me and I ran across the clearing to it. 
 
 The long rows of oxen, standing in harness in front of 
 their wagons, raised their open mouths and bellowed 
 hoarsely, for they scented the water-holes and panted 
 
 381 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 for water. The soldiers at the wagons and horses called 
 to me with dry voices: "Get ahead, you fellows up for- 
 ward ! Are we coming to water soon? Are we going on? " 
 They looked at me with deep, dry eyes. Those who 
 held the horses had a great deal of trouble with the 
 thirsty creatures, which were standing crowded to- 
 gether, swarmed over and tortured by insects. The 
 sun scorched down. A thick, horribly dry, dust-filled air 
 lay over the whole camp. 
 
 The surgeons in white cloaks stood in front of the hos- 
 pital wagon around a table on which some one was lying. 
 I wondered how many were lying in the shade of the 
 wagon; five or six of them were dead, among them our 
 captain. A wounded officer, I think it was a heutenant, 
 was giving water with his well hand to the severely 
 wounded; his other arm was bleeding badly. 
 
 At the general's wagon a man was standing by the 
 heliograph. The general was near by with officers and 
 orderlies around him, all of them on foot. I reported and 
 heard some one say: "The animals can't hold out any 
 longer and the men are simply dying of thirst." The 
 next moment, just as I had turned to run to the front, 
 there came from behind from two or three directions 
 wild shouting and volleys from the bush. 
 
 The outposts, who were lying and kneeling on the 
 ground all around, moved in immediately. The voice of 
 an officer rang out sharp and clear: "Disperse and charge 
 in knots." I ran, and saw as I ran that a hailstorm of 
 bullets was riddling the hospital wagon, that the doctors 
 were seizing their guns, and that one of them was 
 wounded. I even heard one say: "We'll take off our 
 white cloaks, though." Then I lay down by a bush and 
 
 382 
 
FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 
 
 shot at the enemy, who with wild shouts continued their 
 onset through the bushes. Secretaries, orderHes, drivers, 
 guard, and officers all rushed forward, lay down near one 
 another, and protected their skins. The artillery turned 
 while firing and shot away over us. Excited by my run 
 and the sudden attack, I began a violent, rapid fire. A 
 voice near me said: "Shoot more calmly." I did fire 
 more calmly, thinking, "Who said that?" and as I 
 seized my cartridge-belt and looked to the side, there lay 
 the general two men from me, shooting coolly as becomes 
 an old soldier. The enemy were pressing on in close 
 ranks through the bush, shouting and firing. But we lay 
 quietly and shot well. Then it got more quiet. The offi- 
 cers stood up and returned to the center of the camp 
 again. Immediately after that came the order that the 
 whole camp should advance two hundred yards. In run- 
 ning by I saw them lifting the dead and wounded into 
 wagons. Then I ran forward again to my place in the 
 line of defense. 
 
 Now as I lay there I felt how very parched I was. 
 Begging and complaining and teasing for water went 
 through the ranks. From behind we heard the hoarse 
 lowing of the thirsty oxen. I believe that at this time, 
 four in the afternoon, there was not a drop of water in 
 the whole camp except for the wounded. 
 
 Then everything was moved to the front, — soldiers, 
 artillery, and machine guns. A terrific fire rattled 
 against the enemy, who were growing weary. Then word 
 passed from man to man: "We are going to charge." 
 Now the battle-cry told. I shall never forget it. With 
 fierce yells, with distorted faces, with dry and burning 
 eyes, we sprang to our feet and hurled ourselves forward. 
 
 383 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 The enemy leaped, fired, and dispersed with loud out- 
 cries. We ran without interference, shouting, cursing, 
 and shooting, to the good-sized clearing where the 
 ardently desired water-holes were, and across it to the 
 farther edge, where the bush began again. 
 
 The entire camp — the heavy wagons with their long 
 teams of oxen; the hundreds of horses; the hospital wag- 
 ons with the surgeons, the dead and the wounded; the 
 headquarters, everything — followed in a rush and en- 
 camped in the clearing. But we lay around it at the 
 edge of the bush to keep back the enemy, who now here 
 and now there would break through the thick bushes in 
 wild, loudly shouting parties. Behind us our men were 
 now climbing down with army kettles into the water- 
 holes, which were ten yards deep, and were filling buckets 
 let down on reins and were beginning to water man and 
 beast. When about ten animals had had a little, the 
 hole was empty. There were about ten or twelve holes 
 at this place. 
 
 The sun went down. Some of us slipped out, cut 
 brush with our side-arms, and made a stockade in front 
 of us. The artillerymen set up the cannon and machine 
 guns behind us and knelt near them. Some of the sol- 
 diers were detailed to creep from man to man and give 
 each a little water. In the camp further back of us, the 
 restlessly crowding animals were being watered in the 
 dark. By the hospital wagons nurses were going about, 
 lanterns in their hands, bending over each patient. 
 Meanwhile the enemy kept up their firing, which contin- 
 ually flashed out of the dark bush all around the camp. 
 Not until about midnight did it become more quiet. We 
 passed a little zwieback from hand to hand. Then com- 
 
 384 
 
FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 
 
 plete darkness settled upon us and the shooting at last 
 ceased. 
 
 What plan had the enemy in mind? Here we lay in 
 the dark night, four hundred men, worn out, and half 
 dead with thirst; and in front of us and aU around us a 
 savage, furious people numbering sixty thousand. We 
 knew and heard nothing of the other German divisions. 
 Perhaps they had been slaughtered and the sixty thou- 
 sand were now collecting themselves to fall upon us. 
 Through the quiet night we heard in the distance the 
 lowing of enormous herds of thirsty cattle and a dull con- 
 fused sound like the movement of a whole people. To 
 the east there was a gigantic glow of fire. I lay stretched 
 at full length with my gun ready, and cheered my ut- 
 terly exhausted comrades to keep awake. 
 
 Thus morning gradually came on. Then some scouts 
 went out cautiously and we learned to our great amaze- 
 ment that the enemy had withdrawn, and indeed in wild 
 flight. We should have liked to follow them up, but we 
 had no news yet from the other divisions. Moreover, 
 both men and beasts had reached the limit of their 
 strength. So we rested on that day, ate a little poor food, 
 and cleansed and repaired our guns and other equipment ; 
 for we looked like people who had battered and bruised 
 and soiled themselves in an attack of frenzy. The mad- 
 ness still showed in our frowning brows and in our eyes. 
 Our dead lay in the midst of us in the shade of a tree. 
 
 We had a great deal of trouble to keep our animals 
 from dying. We could not give them anywhere near 
 enough water to satisfy them, and we could not give 
 them any fodder at all, because the entire region had 
 been eaten as bare by the enemy's cattle as if rats and 
 
 385 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 mice had gnawed it clean. The men and the animals had 
 even grubbed into the earth in search of roots. It was a 
 miserable day. The sun glared down, and an odor of old 
 manure filled the whole land to suffocation. 
 
 At noon there came at last some news from the other 
 divisions. Two reported that they had beaten the en- 
 emy, the third that it had saved itself with great diffi- 
 culty and distress. The enemy had fled to the east with 
 their whole enormous mass, — women, children, and 
 herds. 
 
 Toward evening we buried our dead under the tree. 
 
THE ATTACK UPON PORT ARTHUR 
 
 BY LIEUTENANT TADAYOSHI SAKURAI, OF THE IMPERIAL 
 JAPANESE ARMY 
 
 As soon as we were gathered together the colonel rose 
 and gave us a final word of exhortation, saying: "This 
 battle is our great chance of serving our country. To- 
 night we must strike at the vitals of Port Arthur. Our 
 brave assaulting column must be not simply a forlorn- 
 hope ('resolved-to-die'),but a 'sure-death' detachment. 
 I as your father am more grateful than I can express for 
 your gallant fighting. Do your best, all of you." 
 
 Yes, we were all ready for death when leaving Japan. 
 Men going to battle of course cannot expect to come 
 back alive. But in this particular battle to be ready for 
 death was not enough; what was required of us was a 
 determination not to fail to die. Indeed, we were 
 "sure-death" men, and this new appellation gave us a 
 great stimulus. Also a telegram that had come from the 
 Minister of War in Tokyo, was read by the aide-de- 
 camp, which said, "I pray for your success." This 
 increased the exaltation of our spirits. 
 
 Let me now recount the sublimity and horror of this 
 general assault. I was a mere lieutenant and every- 
 thing passed through my mind as in a dream, so my 
 story must be something like picking out things from 
 the dark. I can't give you any systematic account, but 
 must limit myself to fragmentary recollections. If this 
 story sounds like a vainglorious account of my own 
 
 3S7 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 achievements, it is not because I am conscious of my 
 merit when I have so little to boast of, but because the 
 things concerning me and near me are what I can tell 
 you with authority. If this partial accoimt prove a clue 
 from which the whole story of this terrible assault may 
 be inferred, my work will not have been in vain. 
 
 The men of the "sure-death" detachment rose to 
 their part. Fearlessly they stepped forward to the place 
 of death. They went over Panlung-shan and made their 
 way through the piled-up bodies of the dead, groups of 
 five or six soldiers reaching the barricaded slope one 
 after another. 
 
 I said to the colonel, "Good-bye, then!" 
 
 With this farewell I started, and my first step was on 
 the head of a corpse. Our objective points were the 
 Northern Fortress and Wang-tai Hill. 
 
 There was a fight with bombs at the enemy's skir- 
 mish-trenches. The bombs sent from our side exploded 
 finely, and the place became at once a conflagration, 
 boards were flung about, sand-bags burst, heads flew 
 around, legs were torn off. The flames mingled with the 
 smoke, lighted up our faces weirdly, with a red glare, 
 and all at once the battle-line became confused. Then 
 the enemy, thinking it hopeless, left the place and 
 began to flee. "Forward! forward! Now is the time to 
 go forward! Forward! Pursue! Capture it with one 
 bound!" And, proud of our victory, we went forward 
 courageously. 
 
 Captain Kawakami, raising his sword, cried, "For- 
 ward!" and then I, standing close by him, cried, 
 "Sakurai's company, forward!" 
 
 Thus shouting I left the captain's side, and, in order 
 
 388 
 
THE ATTACK UPON PORT ARTHUR 
 
 to see the road we were to follow, went behind the 
 rampart. What is that black object which obstructs our 
 view? It is the ramparts of the Northern Fortress. 
 Looking back, I did not see a soldier. Alack, had the 
 line been cut? In trepidation, keeping my body to the 
 left for safety, I called the Twelfth Company. 
 
 "Lieutenant Sakurai!" a voice called out repeatedly 
 in answer. Returning in the direction of the soimd, I 
 found Corporal Ito weeping loudly. 
 
 "What are you crying for? What has happened?" 
 
 The corporal, weeping bitterly, gripped my arm 
 tightly. 
 
 "Lieutenant Sakurai, you have become an important 
 person." 
 
 "What is there to weep about? I say, what is the 
 matter?" 
 
 He whispered in my ear, "Our captain is dead." 
 
 Hearing this, I too wept. Was it not only a moment 
 ago that he had given the order "Forward"? Was it 
 not even now that I had separated from him? And yet 
 our captain was one of the dead. In one moment our 
 tender, pitying Captain Kawakami and I had become 
 beings of two separate worlds. Was it a dream or a 
 reality, I wondered? 
 
 Corporal Ito pointed out the captain's body, which 
 had fallen inside the rampart only a few rods away. 
 I hastened thither and raised him in my arms. 
 
 "Captain!" I could not say a word more. 
 
 But as matters could not remain thus, I took the 
 secret map which the captain had, and, rising up boldly, 
 called out, "From henceforward I command the 
 Twelfth Company." And I ordered that some one of 
 
 389 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the wounded should carry back the captain's corpse. 
 A wounded soldier was just about to raise it up when he 
 was struck on a vital spot and died leaning on the cap- 
 tain. One after another of the soldiers who took his 
 place was struck and fell. 
 
 I called Sub-Lieutenant Ninomiya and asked him if 
 the sections were together. 
 
 He answered in the affirmative. I ordered Corporal 
 Ito not to let the Hne be cut, and told him that I would 
 be in the center of the skirmishers. In the darkness of 
 the night we could not distinguish the features of the 
 country, nor in which direction we were to march. 
 Standing up abruptly against the dark sky were the 
 Northern Fortress and Wang-tai Hill. In front of us 
 lay a natural stronghold, and we were in a caldron- 
 shaped hollow. But still we marched on side by side. 
 
 "The Twelfth Company forward!" 
 
 I turned to the right and went forward as in a dream. 
 I remember nothing clearly of the time. 
 
 "Keep the line together!" 
 
 This was my one command. Presently I ceased to 
 hear the voice of Corporal Ito, who had been at my 
 right hand. The bayonets gleaming in the darkness 
 became fewer. The black masses of soldiers who had 
 pushed their way on now became a handful. All at 
 once, as if struck by a club, I fell down sprawling on the 
 ground. I was wounded, struck in my right hand. The 
 splendid magnesium light of the enemy flashed out, 
 showing the piled-up bodies of the dead, and I raised 
 my wounded hand and looked at it. It was broken at 
 th€ wrist; the hand hung down and was bleeding pro- 
 fusely. I took out the already loosened bundle of band- 
 
 390 
 
THE ATTACK UPON PORT ARTHUR 
 
 ages/ tied up my wound with the triangular piece, and 
 then wrapping a handkerchief over it, I slung it from 
 my neck with the sunrise flag, which I had sworn to 
 plant on the enemy's fortress. 
 
 Looking up, I saw that only a valley lay between me 
 and Wang-tai Hill, which almost touched the sky. I 
 wished to drink and sought at my waist, but the canteen 
 was gone; its leather strap alone was entangled in my 
 feet. The voices of the soldiers were lessening one by 
 one. In contrast, the glare of the rockets of the hated 
 enemy and the frightful noise of the cannonading in- 
 creased. I slowly rubbed my legs, and, seeing that they 
 were unhurt, I again rose. Throwing aside the sheath 
 of my sword, I carried the bare blade in my left hand as 
 a staff, went down the slope as in a dream, and climbed 
 Wang-tai Hill. 
 
 The long and enormously heavy guns were towering 
 before me, and how few of my men were left alive now ! 
 I shouted and told the survivors to follow me, but few 
 answered my call. When I thought that the other 
 detachments must also have been reduced to a similar 
 condition, my heart began to fail me. No reinforcement 
 was to be hoped for, so I ordered a soldier to climb the 
 rampart and plant the sun flag overhead, but alas! he 
 was shot and killed, without even a sound or cry. 
 
 All of a sudden a stupendous sound as from another 
 world rose around about me. 
 
 " Counter-assault ! " 
 
 A detachment of the enemy appeared on the rampart, 
 looking like a dark wooden barricade. They surrounded 
 
 * The " first aid " bandages, prepared by the Red Cross Society, 
 issued to every soldier as part of his equipment. 
 
 391 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 us in the twinkling of an eye and raised a cry of triumph. 
 Our disadvantageous position would not allow us to of- 
 fer any resistance, and our party was too small to fight 
 them. We had to fall back down the steep hill. Looking 
 back, I saw the Russians shooting at us as they pursued. 
 When we reached the earthworks before mentioned, 
 we made a stand and faced the enemy. Great confusion 
 and infernal butchery followed. Bayonets clashed 
 against bayonets; the enemy brought out machine-guns 
 and poured shot upon us pell-mell ; the men on both sides 
 fell like grass. But I cannot give you a detailed account 
 of the scene, because I was then in a dazed condition. I 
 only remember that I was brandishing my sword in fury. 
 I also felt myself occasionally cutting down the enemy. 
 I remember a confused fight of white blade against white 
 blade, the rain and hail of shell, a desperate fight here 
 and a confused scuffle there. At last I grew so hoarse that 
 I could not shout any more. Suddenly my sword broke 
 with a clash, my left arm was pierced. I fell, and before 
 I could rise a shell came and shattered my right leg. 
 I gathered all my strength and tried to stand up, but I 
 felt as if I were crumbling and fell to the ground per- 
 fectly powerless. A soldier who saw me fall cried, 
 "Lieutenant Sakurai, let us die together." 
 
 I embraced him with my left arm and, gnashing my 
 teeth with regret and sorrow, I could only watch the 
 hand-to-hand fight going on about me. My mind worked 
 like that of a madman, but my body would not move an 
 inch. 
 
THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE 
 
 [1912] 
 
 BY PHILIP GIBBS 
 
 [In February, 191 2, Bulgaria, Servia, Greece, and Monte- 
 negro formed an alliance for the purpose of wresting from 
 Turkey her European territory. War began in October. 
 The Turks, fatally handicapped by the inefficiency and dis- 
 organization of their commissariat, were steadily driven 
 back by the invading armies, and Scutari and Adrianople, 
 their most important cities in Europe, were besieged. 
 
 The Editor.] 
 
 So the siege went on, tedious and interminable, and as 
 often as possible I went out to the hills, dodging the vigi- 
 lant officers, who had a quick eye for the red brassard of 
 a correspondent, and riding or walking as far as possible 
 from the main road until I had reached the last hill 
 which looked down upon the city. 
 
 From afar the turrets and roofs and domes and mina- 
 rets of Adrianople appeared like a mirage through a haze 
 of sunshine and a thin veil of mist. The sky was very 
 clear above it. Only a few fleecy clouds rested above the 
 horizon. But suddenly, as I watched one day, a new 
 cloud appeared like a great ball of snow, which unfolded 
 and spread out in curly feathers, and then, after a few 
 moments, disappeared. It was the bursting of a great 
 shell, and the report of it came with a crash of thunder 
 which seemed to shake the hills. Two, three, four shells 
 burst together like bubbles, and then there followed long, 
 
 393 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 low rolls of thunderous sound like great drums beating 
 a tattoo. The noise had a pecuHar rhythm, Uke the Morse 
 code, with long stroke and short, signaUng death. It 
 was made by the Bulgarian batteries on the hill forts, 
 and it was answered by the Turkish batteries from neigh- 
 boring hills. Presently, as the wreaths of smoke from 
 the guns faded into tlie atmosphere, I saw that tall, 
 straight columns of smoke were rising from the city of 
 Adrianople and did not die down. They rose steadily and 
 spread out at the top, and flung great wisps of black 
 murkiness across the sky. It was the smoke of buildings 
 set on fire by the shells. Other towers of black smoke 
 rose from valleys which dipped between hills. The Turk- 
 ish shells, far-flung from their fortifications, crashed 
 into little villages once under Turkish rule and now 
 abandoned by all inhabitants. Soon there would be 
 nothing left of them but blackened stumps and heaps 
 of ash. 
 
 As I stood watching one day I saw two scenes in this 
 grim drama which made my pulses beat with a great ex- 
 citement. A great bird flew across the sky towards the 
 city, and as it flew it sang a droning song like the buzz- 
 ing of an enormous bee. It was a monoplane, flown by a 
 Bulgarian aviator, who had volunteered to reconnoiter 
 the Turkish defenses. It disappeared swiftly into the 
 smoke-wrack, and for some time I Hstened intently to a 
 furious fusillade which seemed to meet this winged spy. 
 After half an hour the aeroplane came back, flying 
 swiftly away from the shot and shell which pursued it 
 from the low-lying hills. Its wings were pierced, so that 
 one could see the sky through them, but it flew steadily 
 from the chase of death, and I heard its rhythmic heart- 
 
 394 
 
THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE 
 
 beat overhead. Its escape was certain now. It had 
 mocked at the pursuit of the shells, and the loud beat 
 of its engine above me was a song of triumph. I watched 
 it disappear again — to safety. So it seemed; but death 
 has many ways of capture, and when I came back to 
 Mustafa Pasha that day I heard that the unfortunate 
 aviator, after his escape from the guns, had fallen from 
 a great height within sight of home, and that the hero's 
 body lay smashed to pieces in the wreckage of his 
 machine. 
 
 Then on another day I saw another drama in the air. 
 While my eyes watched the smoke-clouds from the siege- 
 guns something twinkled and glittered to the left of the 
 four tall minarets of the great mosque of Adrianople. It 
 was the smooth silk of an airship which caught the rays 
 of the sun ; this cigar-shaped craft rose slowly and stead- 
 ily to a fair height, though I think it was tethered at one 
 end. It rose above peaceful ground into a great tran- 
 quillity, which lasted about ten minutes. Then suddenly 
 there was a terrific clap of thunder and a shell burst to 
 the left of the airship. I gave a great cry. It seemed to 
 me that the frail craft had burst and disappeared into 
 nothingness. But a few seconds later, when the smoke 
 was wafted away, I saw the airship still poised steadily 
 above the earth, untouched by that death machine. A 
 second shell was flung skywards, far to the right; and for 
 an hour I watched shells rise continually round that air- 
 ship, trying to tear it down from its high observation, 
 but never striking it. I do not know the names of the 
 men who piloted that ship, but, whoever they were, they 
 may boast of a courage which kept them at their post in 
 the sky amid that storm of shells. 
 
 395 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 It was at night that the bombardment of Adrianople 
 reached the heights of a most infernal beauty. Then the 
 sky quivered with flashes of light, and tongues of flame 
 leaped out from the hillsides, and fire-balls danced be- 
 tween the stars. As I lay in bed after a day on the hills 
 the noise of the bombardment chased sleep away, and 
 every great gun shook the old Turkish farmhouse in 
 which I lived as though heavy iron bedsteads were being 
 dumped down upon the roof. Then there came a con- 
 tinued roll of great artillery. It was so loud and seemed 
 so close that for a moment the wild idea came to me that 
 the Turks had smashed their way out of the besieged 
 city and that there was fighting in Mustafa Pasha. I 
 rose and dressed hastily, lighted a lantern, and went out 
 into the darkness. All around me was the barking and 
 howling of dogs, hundreds of them, baying back an an- 
 swer to the guns. I stumbled through quagmires of mud 
 and pools of water until I came to the bridge of Mustafa 
 overlooking the wide sweep of the Maritza. 
 
 I passed on through the village, and past many lines 
 of sentries and men encamped round fires outside the 
 mosques. Then in the shadow of a doorway I stood still 
 and watched the sky, upon which was written the signs 
 of death still seeking victims, and destruction away in 
 the city below the hills. There was no moon, but the sky 
 was thickly strewn with stars, and it seemed as though 
 some flight of fallen angels were raging in the heavens. 
 I saw a great shell burst below Orion's belt, and the point- 
 ers of the Great Bear were cut across by a sword of flame. 
 The Milky Way throbbed with intermittent flashes like 
 sheet lightning, and the pathway of the stars was illu- 
 mined by the ruddy glare of burning houses and smoul- 
 
 396 
 
THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE 
 
 dering villages. I had an irresistible desire to get closer 
 to all this hellish beauty, to walk far across the hills to a 
 place of vantage from which I had seen the bombard- 
 ment by day. But when I raised my lantern and walked 
 forward I was arrested by a Bulgarian officer — and this 
 was the end of my night's vigil. 
 
 As all the world knows now, the city of Adrianople did 
 not fall before the armistice arranged between the allies 
 and Turkey; and its garrison, which had maintained 
 such an heroic defense, deserved the fullest honors. 
 
A MEMORABLE RETREAT 
 
 FROM THE OFFICIAL REPORT ON THE WITHDRAWAL OF 
 
 THE BRITISH ARMY FROM THE BELGIAN BORDER 
 
 TOWARD PARIS 
 
 [1914] 
 
 BY GENERAL SIR JOHN FRENCH 
 COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE BRITISH FORCES 
 
 [The retreat of the British army under Sir John French be- 
 fore the invading Germans will take its place in history as 
 a masterpiece of strategy. Practically unsupported by his 
 French allies, relentlessly pursued by an overwhelming 
 force of Germans who allowed their retreating enemies no 
 rest by day or night, the British general succeeded in bring- 
 ing off his army virtually intact. The comment of Earl 
 Kitchener, Secretary of State for War, on the following re- 
 port, was that Sir John French had omitted only one aspect 
 of the situation, "the consummate skill and calm courage 
 of the commander himself." The Editor.] 
 
 On Sunday, the 23d [of August], reports began to come 
 in to the effect that the enemy was commencing an at- 
 tack on the Mons line, apparently in some strength, but 
 that the right of the position from Mons was being par- 
 ticularly threatened. The commander of the First Corps 
 had pushed his flank back to some high ground south of 
 Bray, and the Fifth Cavalry evacuated Binche, moving 
 slightly south. The enemy thereupon occupied Binche. 
 The right of the third division under General Ham- 
 ilton was at Mons, which formed a somewhat dangerous 
 salient, and I directed the commander of the second 
 
 398 
 
A MEMORABLE RETREAT 
 
 corps if threatened seriously to draw back the center 
 behind Mons. This was done before dark. In the mean 
 time about five in the afternoon I received a most un- 
 expected message from General Joffre by telegraph tell- 
 ing me that at least three German corps were moving 
 on my position in front and that a second corps was 
 engaged in a turning movement from the direction of 
 Tournai. He also informed me that the two reserve 
 French divisions and the Fifth French Army Corps on 
 my right were retiring, the Germans having on the pre- 
 vious day gained possession of the passage of the Sambre 
 between Charleroi and Namur. 
 
 In view of the possibility of my being driven from 
 the Mons position, I had previously ordered a position 
 in the rear to be reconnoitered. This position rested on 
 the fortress of Maubeuge on the right and extended 
 west to Jenlain, southeast of Valenciennes, on the left. 
 The position was reported difficult to hold because 
 standing crops and buildings made the siting of trenches 
 very difficult and limited the fire in many important 
 locaHties. It nevertheless afforded a few good artillery 
 positions. 
 
 When the news of the retirement of the French and 
 the heavy German force threatening on my front reached 
 me, I endeavored to confirm it by aeroplane reconnois- 
 sance, and as a result of this I determined to effect a 
 retirement to the Maubeuge position at daybreak on the 
 24th. 
 
 A certain amount of fighting continued along the 
 whole line throughout the night, and at daybreak on 
 the 24th the Second Division from the neighborhood of 
 Harmignias made a powerful demonstration as if to 
 
 399 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 retake Binche. This was supported by the artillery of 
 both the First and the Second Division while the First 
 Division took up a supporting position in the neighbor- 
 hood of Peissant. Under cover of this demonstration 
 the Second Corps retired on the line of Dour, Quaruble, 
 and Frameries. The Third Division on the right of the 
 corps suffered considerable loss in this operation from 
 the enemy, who had retaken Mons. The Second Corps 
 halted on this line, where they entrenched themselves, 
 enabling Sir Douglas Haig, with the First Corps, grad- 
 ually to withdraw to the new position, and he effected 
 this without much further loss, reaching the line from 
 Bavay to Maubeuge about seven in the evening. 
 
 Towards midnight the enemy appeared to be direct- 
 ing his principal effort against our left. I had previ- 
 ously ordered General Allenby with the cavalry to act 
 vigorously in advance of my left front and endeavor 
 to take the pressure off. About 7.30 in the morning 
 General Allenby received a message from Sir Charles 
 Fergusson, commanding the Fifth Division, saying he 
 was very hard pressed and in urgent need of support. 
 On receipt of this message General Allenby drew in 
 his cavalry and endeavored to bring direct support to 
 the Fifth Division. 
 
 During the course of this operation. General de Lisle 
 of the Second Cavalry Brigade thought he saw a good 
 opportunity to paralyze the further advance of the 
 enemy's infantry by making a mounted attack on his 
 flank. He formed up and advanced for this purpose, 
 but was held up by wire about five hundred yards from 
 his objective and the Ninth Lancers and the Eighteenth 
 Hussars suft'ered severely in the retirement of the brigade. 
 
 400 
 
A MEMORABLE RETREAT 
 
 The Nineteenth Infantry Brigade, which had been 
 guarding the line of communications, was brought by 
 rail to Valenciennes on the 2 2d and 23d. On the morn- 
 ing of the 24th they were moved out to a position south 
 of Quaruble to support the left flank of the Second 
 Corps. With the assistance of cavalry Sir Horace Smith- 
 Dorrien was enabled to effect his retreat to a new posi- 
 tion, although having two corps of the enemy on his 
 front and one threatening his flank. He suffered great 
 loss in doing so. 
 
 At nightfall a position was occupied by the Second 
 Corps to the west of Bavay, the First Corps to the right. 
 The right was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge, 
 the left by the Nineteenth Brigade in position between 
 Jenlain and Bray, and cavalry on the outer flank. 
 
 The French were still retiring, and I had no sup- 
 port except such as was afforded by the fortresses of 
 Maubeuge, and determined efforts of the enemy to get 
 around my flank assured me that it was his intention to 
 hem me against that place and surround me. I felt that 
 not a moment must be lost in retiring to another posi- 
 tion. I had every reason to believe that the enemy's 
 forces were somewhat exhausted, and I knew that they 
 had suffered heavy losses. I hoped, therefore, that his 
 pursuit would not be too vigorous to prevent me effect- 
 ing my object. The operation, however, was full of 
 danger and difficulty, not only owing to the very supe- 
 rior forces in my front, but also to the exhaustion of 
 the troops. 
 
 The retirement was recommenced in the early morn- 
 ing of the 25 th to a position in the neighborhood of Le 
 Cateau, and the rear guard were ordered to be clear of 
 
 401 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Maubeuge and Bavay by 5.30 a.m. Two cavalry brig- 
 ades, with the divisional cavalry of the Second Corps, 
 covered the movement of the Second Corps, and the 
 remainder of the cavalry division, with the Nineteenth 
 Brigade, the whole under command of General Allenby, 
 covered the west flank. 
 
 The Fourth Division commenced its detrainment at 
 Le Cateau on Sunday, the 23d, and by the morning of 
 the 25 th eleven battalions and a brigade of artillery, 
 with the divisional staff, were available for service. I 
 ordered General Snow to move out to take up a position 
 with his right south of Solesmes, his left resting on the 
 Cambrai — Le Cateau road south of La Chapris. In this 
 position the division rendered great help to the effective 
 retirement of the Second and First Corps to new posi- 
 tions. 
 
 Although the troops had been ordered to occupy the 
 Cambrai-Le Cateau-Landrecies position, and ground 
 had, during the 25th, been partially prepared and in- 
 trenched, I had grave doubts — owing to information 
 I had received as to the accumulating strength of the 
 enemy against me — as to the wisdom of standing there 
 to fight. 
 
 Having regard to the continued retirement of the 
 French on my right, my exposed left flank, the tendency 
 of the enemy's western corps to envelop me and, more 
 than all, the exhausted condition of the troops, I deter- 
 mined to make a great effort to continue the retreat till 
 I could put some substantial obstacle, such as the 
 Somme or the Oise, between my troops and the enemy 
 and afford the former some opportunity for rest and 
 reorganization. 
 
 402 
 
A MEMORABLE RETREAT 
 
 Orders were, therefore, sent to the corps command- 
 ers to continue their retreat as soon as they possibly 
 could toward the general line of Vermand, Saint-Quentin, 
 and Ribemont, and the cavalry under General Allenby 
 were ordered to cover the retirement. Throughout the 
 25th and far into the evening the First Corps contin- 
 ued to march on Landrecies, following the road along 
 the eastern border of the forest of Mormal, and arrived 
 at Landrecies about ten o'clock. I had intended that 
 the corps should come farther west so as to fill up the 
 gap between Le Cateau and Landrecies, but the men 
 were exhausted and could not get farther in without a 
 rest. 
 
 The enemy, however, would not allow them this 
 rest, and about 9.30 that evening the report was re- 
 ceived that the Fourth Guards Brigade in Landrecies 
 was heavily attacked by troops of the Ninth German 
 Army Corps, who were coming through the forest to 
 the north of the town. This brigade fought most gal- 
 lantly and caused the enemy to suffer a tremendous loss 
 in issuing from the forest into the narrow streets of 
 the town. This loss has been estimated from reliable 
 sources at between seven hundred and one thousand. 
 
 At the same time information reached me from Sir 
 Douglas Haig that his First Division was also heavily 
 engaged south and east of Marilles. I sent urgent mes- 
 sages to the commander of two French reserve divisions 
 on my right to come up to the assistance of the First 
 Corps, which they eventually did. Partly owing to this 
 assistance but mainly to the skillful manner in which 
 Sir Douglas Haig extricated his corps from an excep- 
 tionally diflQcult position in the darkness of night, they 
 
 403 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 were able to resume their march towards Wassigny and 
 Guise. By about six in the afternoon, the Second Corps 
 had got into position with their right on Le Cateau 
 and their left in the neighborhood of Caudry, and the 
 line of defense was continued thence by the Fourth 
 Division toward Seranvillers. 
 
 During the fighting on the 24th and 25th the cav- 
 alry became a good deal scattered, but by early morning 
 on the 26th General Allenby had succeeded in concen- 
 trating two brigades to the south of Cambrai. The 
 Fourth Division was placed under the orders of the 
 general ofiicer commanding the Second Army Corps. 
 
 On the 24th the French cavalry corps, consisting 
 of three divisions under General Sordet, had been in 
 billets north of Avesnes. On my way back from Bavay, 
 which was my poste de commandemente during the 
 fighting of the 23d and the 24th, I visited General Sordet 
 and earnestly requested his cooperation and support. 
 He promised to obtain sanction from his army com- 
 mander to act on my left flank, but said that his horses 
 were too tired to move before the next day. Although 
 he rendered me valuable assistance later on in the course 
 of the retirement, he was unable for the reasons given 
 to afford me any support on the most critical day of all, 
 namely the 26th. 
 
 At daybreak it became apparent that the enemy 
 was throwing the bulk of his strength against the left 
 of the position occupied by the Second Corps and the 
 Fourth Division. At this time the guns of four German 
 army corps were in position against them, and Sir Hor- 
 ace Smith-Dorrien reported to me that he judged it 
 impossible to continue his retirement at daybreak, as 
 
 404 
 
A MEMORABLE RETREAT 
 
 ordered, in the face of such an attack. I sent him orders 
 to use his utmost endeavors to break off the action and 
 retire at the earliest possible moment, as it was im- 
 possible for me to send him support, the First Corps 
 being at the moment incapable of movement. 
 
 The French cavalry corps under General Sordet was 
 coming up on our left rear early in the morning, and 
 I sent him an urgent message to do his utmost to 
 come up and support the retirement of my left flank, 
 but owing to the fatigue of his horses he found himself 
 unable to intervene in any way. 
 
 There had been no time to intrench the position 
 properly, but the troops showed a magnificent front 
 to the terrible fire which confronted them. The artil- 
 lery, although outmatched by at least four to one, 
 made a splendid fight and inflicted heavy losses on their 
 opponents. 
 
 At length it became apparent that if complete an- 
 nihilation was to be avoided, retirement must be at- 
 tempted, and the order was given to commence it about 
 3.30 in the afternoon. The movement was covered with 
 most devoted intrepidity and determination by the 
 artillery, which had itself suffered heavily, and the fine 
 work done by the cavalry in the further retreat from 
 the position assisted materially the final completion 
 of this most difficult and dangerous operation. Fortu- 
 nately the enemy had himself suffered too heavily to 
 engage in an energetic pursuit. 
 
 I cannot close the brief account of this glorious stand 
 of the British troops without putting on record my deep 
 appreciation of the valuable services rendered by Sir 
 Horace Smith-Dorrien. I say without hesitation that 
 
 405 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 the saving of the left wing of the army under my com- 
 mand on the morning of the 26th could never have been 
 accomplished unless a commander of rare and unusual 
 coolness, intrepidity and determination had been pres- 
 ent to personally conduct the operations. 
 
 The retreat was continued far into the night of the 
 26th and through the 27th and the 28th, on which date 
 the troops halted on the line from Noyon, Chauny and 
 La Fere, having then thrown off the weight of the ene- 
 my's pursuit. 
 
 On the 27th and the 28th I was much indebted to 
 General Sordet and the French cavalry division which 
 he commands for materially assisting my retirement and 
 successfully driving back some of the enemy on Cam- 
 brai. General d'Amade also, with the Sixty-first and 
 Sixty-second reserve divisions, moved down from the 
 neighborhood of Arras on the enemy's right flank and 
 took much pressure off the rear of the British forces. 
 
 This closed the period covering the heavy fighting 
 which commenced at Mons on Sunday afternoon, August 
 23, and which really constituted a four days' battle. 
 At this point, therefore, I propose to close the present 
 dispatch. 
 
 I deeply deplore the very serious losses which the 
 British forces suffered in this great battle, but they were 
 inevitable in view of the fact that the British army — 
 only a few days after concentration by rail — was 
 called upon to withstand the vigorous attack of five 
 German army corps. 
 
THE SOLDIERS' DREAM 
 
FIGHTING IN MID-AIR 
 
 AN INCIDENT OF I914 
 BY SERGEANT WERNER OF THE GERMAN AVIATION CORPS 
 
 I HAD received orders to locate the English forces and 
 to determine their exact battle lines and those of their 
 French supports. Accompanied by Lieutenant von 
 Heidsen, who was detailed as expert observer, I went up 
 in my big monoplane and headed directly south in the 
 general direction of Paris, although on this trip we did not 
 go across the city. Previously, on Sunday, we flew across 
 Paris and dropped three bombs. One failed to explode. 
 Another dropped on the roof of a house and set fire to 
 it, and the third fell in a boulevard and made a big hole. 
 But we flew back to our lines that time without being 
 molested and we were so high the rifle fire did not reach 
 us. 
 
 On this trip to locate the enemy we flew directly 
 south from Mons, following a broad and plainly marked 
 road. En route we passed over the edge of a magnifi- 
 cent forest, in which more than 40,000 inhabitants of 
 the surrounding country had taken refuge. After fly- 
 ing for more than an hour we passed directly over the 
 English headquarters and I was able to locate the posi- 
 tions of the commander-in-chief and his staff. We accu- 
 rately mapped this position and then swept across the 
 French position, paying especial attention to the loca- 
 tions of their artillery, much of which was masked in 
 pieces of woods and behind buildings and hedges. 
 
 407 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 Lieutenant von Heidsen made rough sketches of 
 everything. I was intently watching the country when 
 suddenly the lieutenant pressed my arm. He pointed 
 upward. At that time we were nearly five thousand 
 feet in the air. I looked in the direction in which he 
 was pointing and there, fully one thousand feet higher 
 than we were, and coming at full speed directly toward 
 us, was a big Bristol biplane. 
 
 It was evident from the start that he was far speedier 
 than we were. I tried to climb upward, realizing that 
 when he got over me he would drop a bomb and we 
 would be blown to pieces. But the effort was vain. The 
 Bristol held me for speed. I could not get on a level with 
 him. Soon the Bristol was directly over our heads. My 
 God, man! I was not afraid, but this was a moment of 
 suspense that took years of my Ufe. I was sure the bomb 
 was coming. 
 
 The Bristol had reduced her speed until she was 
 keeping pace with us. She was also slowly coming down. 
 Swooping lower and lower, the Bristol came. At last 
 I knew how a bird feels when an eagle or a hawk is 
 swooping down on it. I thought every minute was to be 
 our last. I was certain that what the British were try- 
 ing to do was to get so close that their bomb could not 
 miss. My nerves were entirely unstrung and it was all 
 that I could do to keep my monoplane on an even keel. 
 
 Suddenly I saw a flash alongside of me. For a mo- 
 ment I thought that the expected bomb had struck. 
 Then I realized that the lieutenant was shooting with 
 his automatic pistol. The Englishmen had their pro- 
 peller in front and so they could not shoot from that 
 position. I was now certain they carried no bombs, as 
 
 408 
 
FIGHTING IN MID-AIR 
 
 they veered off some five hundred feet to the side at 
 the same time keeping one hundred and fifty above us. 
 
 All this time we were headed northward again 
 toward the German lines. The plunging of the aero- 
 planes made accurate shooting difficult, although one 
 shot struck my plane. It was very evident that the 
 Englishman was shooting to disable our motor, and we 
 were doing the same thing on our part. The noise of the 
 discharge of the automatics was drowned in the whirr 
 of our propeller. 
 
 There was a feeling of utter helplessness so far as 
 we were concerned. Our machine was far slower and 
 much more unwieldy than theirs. I kept figuring on 
 when the next bullet would strike, as with their greater 
 speed they seemed certain finally to get us. While this 
 thought was passing through my mind the lieutenant 
 again touched me and pointed thousands of feet higher. 
 
 There, coming at tremendous speed, was a small 
 Bleriot monoplane. It looked for all the world like an 
 eagle coming to join the attack. I felt certain now 
 that the end was in sight, as all of the French aviators 
 we have captured up to the present have carried bombs, 
 and the speed of the newcomer — it was far greater 
 than the Bristol — gave him still more of an advantage. 
 
 But the Bleriot also failed to have bombs and was 
 forced to depend on pistols. Swooping up and down, 
 encircling us and all the time firing at us, the Bleriot 
 kept on. Minutes seemed like hours to me. It was cer- 
 tain there could be only one end to this unequal fight, 
 although the lieutenant kept firing in return as calmly 
 as at the rifle range. 
 
 Suddenly, however, German troops appeared below 
 409 
 
THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 
 
 us. They began firing at the enemy, and the Bleriot and 
 the Bristol, finally exhausting their ammunition, sailed 
 off to the south unharmed. We then landed with our 
 reportS; which were especially valuable because of the 
 location of the French artillery. However, I would not 
 want to go through such an experience again.' 
 
 THE END 
 
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
 U - S . A